Echoes and Memories
by TVH Bookfan
Summary: 19th Century England: long before meeting the Doctor, Clara Oswin Oswald's life had always been an adventure, from her birth behind the Big Ben to her first encounter with time travelers at the age of nine, resulting in the discovery of two girls who look an awful lot like her. Part of the Gifted series.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who**

 **Part 1: Behind the Big Ben**

 **London: June 1876**

"Chapter 1: I am born," scrawled a small nine-year-old girl in a brown, leather bound notebook given to her by her uncle William not so long ago. The sun had started to set outside, filling the little old house where young Clara Oswin Oswald lived with a golden light that temporarily replaced that darkness which was commonplace within it, even during the daytime. Because Uncle William was always telling her that the best time to start a story was when you saw brightness starting to settle, Clara decided that she would always begin writing new stories when the sun was either rising or setting, even if it meant keeping a candle on once the darkness returned again.

So far, she had begun with the first sentence from _David Copperfield,_ a book which Uncle William had read to her for the first time when she was only three years old, and which she'd proudly read on her own shortly after her ninth birthday last November. This had impressed strict old Miss Adams, her teacher, who was more likely to whip her students' desks with a ruler for misspelling "obedience" or for hiding _Punch_ magazine around their readers than she was to give them treats for a job well done. However, upon hearing the girl her pupils liked calling "raggedy Clara" due to the often dirty brown dress she had to wear every other day reading two full pages of _David Copperfield_ , she'd not only given Clara a juicy red apple for her dinner, but also told her, "If you worked as much on your penmanship as you did on your reading, Miss Oswald, perhaps you could become like Charles Dickens yourself someday, giving powerful readings of vivid tales which will shock the people of England into change once again."

And that had become the young girl's greatest ambition: to become England's most famous storyteller. The way she saw it, her life was already worthy of a story. According to her Uncle William, who always told her things as they were no matter how improper they seemed to other adults, she'd been born as her mother was on a promenade across London with her father, and because she decided to come "burst into the world" two weeks before Mary Oswald was told she'd possibly give birth, Clara had actually been born around the Big Ben, with about two strangers, and one of them a doctor, helping her give birth as many visitors coming to see the famous landmark froze in astonishment upon noticing what was going on. This all happened in the twenty-third of November, 1866.

A year after Clara was born, her father had made the fatal mistake of drinking too much whiskey before climbing up a ladder to repair the roof of a neighbor. As soon as he'd made it to the last step, one of his legs started dangling over, and then, "looking like a ballerina in a circus" as Uncle William candidly recalled, Fredrick Oswald leaped to his death, breaking his neck as soon as he landed on the floor. Despite the somewhat comic manner in which he died, it was heartbreaking for Mary Oswald, who apparently did nothing but weep for four days straight, remaining in her bed like a maiden in distress except when she left to attend her husband's funeral at St. John's Church. Five months later, she caught a cold after going out in the rain, leaving her so gravely ill with fever that she was dead within a week. However, according to Uncle William, "It wasn't the fever that killed her, Clara. Most people recover from a small illness like that in just a few days. It was the damned grief and her vulnerable temperament that did all the work."

Because of this, Clara now lived with William Oswald, who was six years older than her father had been and worked nearly all night in a tavern, serving beer, wine, whiskey, and all other forms of liquor to both local drunkards who came in on a daily basis and wealthy men looking for entertainment in the worst of places just for a change in their routines. Clara was looked after by Mrs. Hawkins, a middle-aged widow who was one of the few people in their neighborhood who showed any tolerance towards William, believing that he was just a misunderstood soul who'd become bitter due to a life full of tragedy and disappointment. However, Clara never saw him as a bitter man, but rather a funny person whom other people couldn't tolerate because he refused to fulfill their expectations of a gentleman. "Here in England, there's always contempt towards the vulgar," he liked telling Clara. "And if the vulgar are willing to stand up for themselves, they're despised even more." However, he did like Mrs. Hawkins, believing her to be one of those people who could never be corrupted by the system, and always trusted her to look after Clara while he was gone in the evenings.

On that night, Mrs. Hawkins had decided to take an early slumber, and had fallen asleep in William's old rocking chair, with her feet bare and giving off a series of unladylike snores. All around Clara, there were several empty liquor bottles along with piles of old newspapers and issues of _Punch_ (which William loved reading due to the crude cartoons and parodies of nearly everyone in British society whom he disliked), since cleaning had never been something which Mrs. Hawkins was good at. Inspired by the uncleanliness, Clara added the next sentences to her story: "All around my mother's chamber, everything looked really dirty. The colour of gold which came from the sun only seemed to make the liquor bottles and newspapers more visible than they already were. Knowing that I was soon to be born, my mother started to go into a fit, because she did not want the doctor to think that she was like all the other vulgar people in the neighbourhood."

Clara knew that her uncle would find her story to be funny, while Mrs. Hawkins would make a fuss over how such subject matter was unsuitable for a nice little girl like herself to be writing about. Yet, for some reason, such stories like these were often the only ones that could come to mind, just as other girls in her class liked coming up with their own versions of fairy stories. It didn't just seem to be a matter of what kind of stories you liked reading about that seemed to inspire the stories people told, but also the kind of life you had and what you knew. Uncle William had told her that Charles Dickens had spent several years working in a factory instead of going to school (something which Miss Adams had failed to bring up even despite her apparent admiration of the change his stories had brought about), and that Louisa May Alcott, who'd written _Little Women,_ another one of Clara's favorites,had to take on many different jobs, including as a nurse in the American Civil War, before she became successful as a writer. Therefore, it seemed to both William and Clara that it was those who went through hard times were the best storytellers.

But before Clara could go on, she thought she could hear the wind blowing much louder than before. Then, she heard something going _whoosh,_ followed by a thump to the ground and some yelling. Afterwards, there came the sound of what must have been the strangest music she'd ever heard in her life. The instruments were mostly unidentifiable except for what sounded like a violin, and the lyrics seemed to pop out of nowhere during the middle of the song, going, "That's right! Get up and boogie!" Whatever that music was supposed to be, and whatever the word "boogie" meant, Clara thought that it certainly didn't sound like the lovely hymns she heard during church on Sundays.

"Turn that racket off, Jack! We're in 1876, not 1976," came the sound of a feisty woman as they started hearing some angry shouts from people who were out on an evening stroll. Apparently, they weren't very fond of the music either, because one woman called it a "senseless abomination," and someone else was demanding where it came from.

"Looks like you're right about that, River," the man, whom Clara could now see from the window, responded. He had on brown trousers held up by suspenders, giving him the look of a working man, but his shirt appeared to have all the colors of a rainbow, making him look very unusual. Taking in the crowds of people, who seemed to be getting even more confused and angry by the second, he then said, "Apparently, no one here looks as if they're ready for disco music." He then grabbed a small brown box that had been on the ground for a while, and pressed a small circle on the top of it that finally made the lively music come to a stop.

The woman named River, who seemed to be dressed more appropriately in what looked like a white summer dress with stuffed sleeves, then got a hold of Jack's hand as the two made started running away together, heading to none other than Clara's small house on Willow Street.

At first, Clara thought they were there to pay a visit to a neighbor, but when she noticed River walking up to the door of her house, followed by a soft knocking, she thought that perhaps these were visitors from Uncle William's tavern (Jack in particular looked as if he were a little tipsy), perhaps coming to pay off something they didn't have money for the night before. It had happened before, and both Mrs. Hawkins and Clara always knew how to act appropriately towards these people. As a result, she walked up to the door and then gave off a small curtsy, followed by saying, "How do you do, Miss? My name is Clara Oswald…"

Before she could finish though, River took a gentle hold of her hand and started shaking it, saying, "Hello, sweetie. We weren't expecting to find you here of all places."

 **So, that's the start of this story. I'm still trying to decide whether to have it be a novella (that is, a short novel) which leads up to a longer story, or have it be a story as long as some of my other completed works (usually around twenty chapters or more). Which would you like to see? Let me know so I can make a finally decision on the length. This story is also set within the same universe as my other Doctor Who story "Gifted", so if you've read it already, be on the lookout for more supernatural phenomena mentioned at different points in the story, and if you haven't, try to check it out sometime. You might enjoy that story as much as this one.**

 **Also, just so you all know, the word "vulgar" once meant "a typical person", usually referring to someone who wasn't wealthy. Although throughout this story (and perhaps within past society as well, whether intentional or not), this word sometimes refers to someone who's viewed as "classless" or as foul and without manners. In addition,** _ **Punch**_ **was a popular humor magazine in nineteenth century Britain, not that different from the American** _ **Mad**_ **magazine in the twentieth century.**

 **Next, Clara will be in for a big surprise when she discovers who Jack and River are and what they do. Also, we'll learn a little as to why they're on the lookout for her, but the full story is yet to be revealed.**


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what are your proper names?" Clara asked after River's small greeting to her.

"My name is Professor River Song," River responded. Then, turning to Jack with a sly smile on her face, she said, "And over here is my friend Captain Jack Harkness."

"How do you do, Clara?" Jack said to her, shaking her hand with a friendly smile. "Some rather unusual circumstances brought us here," he went on, giving River a very accusing look as he said this. "But yes, I guess despite all the confusion from before, we have managed to become friends."

For a moment, all Clara could do was look at this eccentric pair with astonishment. She was getting a feeling that they didn't come over here because they were Uncle William's clients. For one thing, although River did sound as if she were English, she noticed that Jack sounded more American; Clara had become familiar with American accents when a visitor from New York had come home with Uncle William to get help finding his way around the city. In addition, there was that strange device Jack had which was playing that funny music from before. This same visitor had brought up the fact that some Americans had started inventing things which people wouldn't have dreamed the existence of ten years before. Could that possibly explain where that device had come from?

"Don't keep quiet, dear," River said to her. "If you have questions, go ahead and ask them."

"Okay," Clara said somewhat uncomfortably. "First of all, do you know my Uncle William?"

"Your uncle?" Jack asked. "What about your parents?"

"My parents are dead," Clara informed her. "I live with my Uncle William, and I don't think I have any other family members that are still alive."

"Oh, dear," River sighed, turning to Jack and whispering, "This really isn't what I was expecting at all. Both Raina and Lyssa insisted that the version we were going to meet had both her parents."

"They also thought we'd be meeting up with her at the American bicentennial, and look where we ended up," Jack whispered to her. "I don't know how Lyssa got that idea, but I know you'd been making too many promises to Raina about returning her to the twentieth century that she probably didn't know what else to tell you. She's not able to see anything outside of her visions, so how could you expect her to correctly tell you what century Clara was in?"

"Please, Jack. Don't make this any harder than it already is," River insisted, forgetting for a moment that Clara was able to clearly listen in. "We're in 1876 now, so we might as well get used to it."

"I'm confused," Clara said. "What's going on and why are you here?"

They must have been speaking a little too loudly, because she could now see Mrs. Hawkins slowly getting up from the rocking chair (she had never been a sound sleeper, so even the most quiet conversations tended to rouse her). After groaning a little, she called out, "William, is that you?"

"Uh-oh. Looks like we'll have some addition explaining to do," Jack said.

"Let me take care of this," River demanded. Then, moving steadily along, taking the time to move her long white dress up a little in order to avoid soiling it on the dusty floor, she approached Mrs. Hawkins with a warm smile. As Clara had done earlier, she gave her a curtsy (this one looking a lot more balanced and gracious than Clara's had been) and then said, "A pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm afraid we approached a little trouble as we were walking through London, and since this was the closest home we were able to come across, we decided to seek your help."

Mrs. Hawkins laughed. "My dear lady, you're treating me as if I were Queen Victoria. I'm nothing but an old caretaker for little Clara over here, but I'd be happy to help you in any way I can. I'm Mrs. Hawkins, by and by."

"And I'm River Song," she responded. "First of all, would you mind telling us what time it is?"

"The time? Well, let's have a look and see." Mrs. Hawkins then pulled a small watch out of her apron pocket and took a glance. "Oh, dear. We're at around nine o'clock at night. I forgot all about tea time, and Clara never likes missing tea."

"That would be all right with us, Mrs. Hawkins. I'm used to having late meals when traveling. Isn't that right, Jack?"

"Of course, Mrs. Watson," Jack responded with the same charming smile from before. "We truly appreciate all hospitality."

"I'm pleased to hear that," Mrs. Hawkins responded with a smile as she walked up to the cupboard located in the small kitchen.

"This might take a while," Clara said to Jack.

"Why do say that?" Jack asked her.

"Just watch what Mrs. Hawkins does," Clara responded, and pointed towards the kitchen.

For a while, Mrs. Hawkins searched through everything contained within the cupboard, pulling food in and out as she was trying to decide what was best to prepare for her unexpected guests at such a late hour. At one point, she tossed a bag of sugar on the floor, resulting in the bag tearing apart and grains of sugar spreading out all over the place.

"Oh, goodness!" Mrs. Hawkins exclaimed, always frustrated by her own clumsiness. "This is going to bring about all the rats again, and William might never want me cooking here again."

"Could we help you out, Mrs. Hawkins?" River asked, coming over with a broom which had been left next to the stove.

"I would really appreciate it," Mrs. Hawkins said with a sigh as River started to clean up. "I'm sorry for being such a bad hostess."

"Don't fret about it," River replied with a laugh. "I looked after a sixteen-year-old blind girl for nearly a year, so I got very used to handling these sorts of incidents."

This came as a surprise to both Clara and Mrs. Hawkins, who both felt deeply impressed to hear what she had done in the past. "Well, you must be a very noble woman indeed," Mrs. Hawkins said. "Some people just place those poor souls in asylums here in London, one of the many practices which both William and I equally despise. My dear older brother Louis was born deaf, and despite everything my parents, my other three siblings, and I did to care for him, the rest of our family just didn't value him as much as we did. So when my mother died and my father was left heavily ill for the last four years of his life, the first thing my uncle did was place Louis in an asylum for the handicapped. I've never forgiven him for what he did."

Clara was shocked, since she'd never heard Mrs. Hawkins tell this story before. River looked deeply sad, and Jack shook his head with a clear look of anger on his face. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hawkins," River finally said. "Of course, I've never agreed with such practices myself, so much so that I saved this girl named Raina from a place where she'd been used by everyone she knew her whole life. More than once, she told me that I was the one of the only true friends she ever really had."

Mrs. Hawkins nodded and put her arm around River's shoulder. "That sounds wonderful, Miss Song. This girl sounds truly fortunate to have met someone like you."

Clara turned to Jack curiously. "Who's Raina?" she asked.

"We'll tell you later. She's actually part of why we found ourselves here," Jack explained, and Clara could already tell that this explanation wasn't going to be easy for him.

"Could you tell me where you got that music box you had outside as well."

Jack now laughed. "I think that's going to be a lot more fun talking about," he said.

Mrs. Hawkins now glanced at Jack and Clara. "I'm sorry for telling a little too much about myself just now. It's just hard for me to remain focused on my duties when I get too emotional."

"I understand, Mrs. Hawkins. I've gone through that as well," Jack replied, sounding as if he really meant this, and wasn't just saying it out of pity.

"So Clara, Mr. Harkness, will bread and strawberry jam be good enough for a late tea? It doesn't look as if I'll have time to prepare anything better given late it is," she went on, looking slightly ashamed over this being all she could provide them with.

"It sounds wonderful, Mrs. Hawkins," Clara responded cheerfully. Then, turning to Jack and River, she said, "Mrs. Hawkins makes the best strawberry jam in the world, and on the days when I'm able to help her, it comes out a lot better. I helped her prepare it yesterday, and we were able to prepare four full jars of it, with one of them almost completely empty because the three of us ate so much of it for tea."

Looking at River once Clara joined Mrs. Hawkins to prepare their tea, Jack whispered, "Looks like this is going to be our fishfingers and custard, don't you think?"

"I don't think we could have had it any better, Jack, especially given some of the circumstances of the British working class at the time," River responded. "And besides, it could be worse. When Raina and I first arrived in 1960s Michigan, before we met little Stevie Wonder, we stayed with this stiff Archeology professor I met at the University of Detroit and his family, who always ate dinner in front of the television. Our first meal consisted of cold breaded chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas which were practically ice, and all this coming from those TV dinner boxes. And in case you're wondering, the wife didn't even work. You'd think she'd have the time to prepare a proper dinner, but apparently, all she did during the day was shop at Woolworth's or Marshall Fields!"

"Oh yeah? When Lyssa and I visited the president of Mars, we weren't able to eat nothing but rice pudding and water, and all because the Martians believed we were an inferior species. The president never believed me when I told him that I was immortal and that Lyssa was an echo of someone," Jack practically boasted, as if he were determined to have had a worse experience to share than River did.

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see if Mrs. Hawkins and this echo prove to do better in this aspect of hospitality," River stated, ending the conversation for a moment.

…

The small meal turned out to be one of better ones which River and Jack had in all their travels. Mrs. Hawkins and Clara had not only managed to prepare some good strawberry jam, but the bread which it came along with had managed to remain fresh despite the fact that Mrs. Hawkins claimed she'd baked two days before, and the tea was prepared with enough sugar and milk to go along with the rest. In addition, they managed to serve chocolate and vanilla-flavored biscuits which tasted more like twenty-first century era cookies than the more formal pastries people usually liked having during the Victorian era. The slight anxiety Mrs. Hawkins and Clara had over the modest meal they provided was gone once Jack and River started complimenting them on it, with Jack saying that they ought to consider opening up a restaurant for travelers, and River saying that she could never find the time to prepare something as good as this, even after taking as many baking classes as she had time for.

"Thank you very much," Mrs. Hawkins said, with her relief over a job well done coming off more clearly than she intended. "And I take it that the state of the house doesn't bother you at all? I'm always telling William that he must do something about all those whiskey bottles he's brought back from the tavern, but no matter what I tell him, it seems as if our little collection only gets bigger as time goes on. To make matters even stranger, I only occasionally see William drinking. With you two turning up here today, I almost wonder if…"

"It's quite all right with us, Mrs. Hawkins," River interrupted. "After all, half of all the homes I've stayed in over the years have been more untidy than this place is. I once visited a family that threw bags and boxes of all sorts of snacks across their parlor."

"Interesting to know," Mrs. Hawkins said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to start cleaning up a little and then throw out the rubbish outside. Cleaning up after meals is never as bothersome as preparing for them can be."

"Go ahead," Jack said. Then, looking at Clara, he said, "Looks like we can start on our little talk now."

Clara beamed at him, excited that this was her chance to get to know these unusual visitors. "Can you start with the music box?"

"Sounds like a good place to start to me, Jack," River said.

"All right," Jack decided. "So, Clara, are you prepared for the biggest surprise of your life?"

"Yes, indeed," Clara said.

Jack then placed the small device from before on the table. Pressing the same button as before, a loud static sound could then be heard, which was so strong that Clara covered her ears. However, it was also very brief, lasting only about three seconds. Afterwards, Clara noticed a small screen pop up in the middle of the device, with green text (all the letters were capitalized) appearing on the screen, which ran across the left side of the screen in what appeared to Clara like a race between words. A robotic-sounding voice read these words as they made their way across the screen, saying, "NOW PLAYING THE WORLD'S GREATEST HITS OF 1976."

"1976? But that's supposed to be a hundred years from now!" Clara said in surprise. Her schoolmates sometimes liked telling stories set a hundred years into the future, where people would be living on the moon and have the ability to jump through the clouds in the sky, or else flying all over the place using some sort of wooden machines, and perhaps even able to travel through time. It all sounded like nonsense to Uncle William ("If most people don't even have access to horses and wagons nowadays, what makes them think they'll set foot on the moon in a hundred years?" he'd scoffed when she told him these tales), but Clara was fascinated by the idea. Was it really possible that this was a machine from the future and not just a new American invention?

"Listen and see, sweetheart," River told her.

Then, a lot of music similar to what Clara had heard before started playing, most of which River managed to skip through using the fourth button to the right of the device. There were two songs that sounded nearly identical to that one song from before ("Shake Your Booty" by K.C. and the Sunshine Band and "More, More, More" by the Andrea True Connection), and two which reminded Clara a little more of what she heard through the church choir ("Save Your Kisses for Me" by Brotherhood of Man and "Fernando" by ABBA). After those four songs, there came what had to be Clara's favorite, and the only song which River played all the way through: "Isn't she Lovely" by Stevie Wonder, which she liked because of the lively yet sooth melody, in comparison to the two fast paced songs she'd heard first, as well as the clear sound of a harmonica being played around the middle and end of the song.

"This is one of Raina's favorite songs," River said nostalgically. "One of her biggest regrets about meeting Stevie in the sixties was that she couldn't talk about many of her favorites that inspired her own music because they wouldn't be recorder for another five years or longer. But otherwise, those two got along very well and managed to inspire each other so much, and…"

"Not now, River," Jack said somewhat impatiently. "You'll have plenty of time to muse about your good times with Raina after we're done showing Clara everything." Then, preparing to press another button, he said, "And now Clara, here's part two of our little demonstration."

The sound of static was heard once again

"Good evening," came the robotic voice when the noise went away. "You've arrived in 20th of June, 1876, and your current location is London. This has been one of the most turbulent years in world history. One month earlier, Germany, Russia, and Austria-Hungary formed the Berlin Memorandum, which proposed an armistice between Turkey and its insurgents. This memorandum, however, was rejected by British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli. This month in San Francisco, the Transcontinental Express has finally arrived through the First Transcontinental Railroad, and the Battle of the Rosebud occurred in Montana Territory. Here in England, Mark Twain has published _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,_ which is already becoming a success…"

"How did that machine get all that information?" Clara asked, who recalled reading about some of this news in the papers. "Did one of you write about it using the screen?" She remembered how Uncle William had told her about someone who'd tried to invent a machine that was able to maintain information using very complex mathematics several years before she'd been born. It had failed to be successful at the end, but he'd told Clara about many inventors who'd managed to be successful after years of failing to get it right. Could it really be possible that this was a machine from 1976, and that Jack and River had lived through this time period and managed to somehow travel to the past?

"This may be difficult to understand, Clara," Jack explained, "But this machine, known as Time X, is automatically able to take in information based on either our current location, which explains how it was able to give a perfect recitation of the most important current news, or someone programming it to provide information from a particular time period, which explains the music from 1976. Thanks to the fact that Time X was invented on the planet Hera during the 50th century, it's controlled through a form of energy which doesn't exist here on Earth, but of which there's an abundance of in Hera." He then took out a large and wide, square-shaped pad from a bag he'd been carrying and handed it over to Clara. "Try and see if this works," he requested.

Clara pressed a small button located at the bottom of the pad, wondering if it would work as well as the box, but nothing happened. The pad remained as dark as it had been before.

"That's an I-Pad, which was invented on Earth during the early 21st century," Jack went on explaining. "Technology started becoming more advanced at that point, but because it was still very limited under future standards, it's able to work in this particular time period."

Clara was now prepared to ask what she was slowly starting to figure out for herself. "So, you're saying that you're…"

"Not of this time period," River finished her sentence. "Some would like to call us time travels, but who we are and what we do is a lot more complicated than that. Take me, for instance. I was born inside a time machine and lived several different lives. In one of them, I grew up alongside my parents at the time when they were still children, and in another, I'd been trained to be an assassin. Somehow, I managed to get on my own path and became a professor of archeology, but I still nearly found myself killing my own husband. Yet, I saved his life by giving him nearly all the lives I'd gained from being born in his time machine."

Clara looked at her in awe. "I think that's the most confusing story I've ever heard in my life."

River laughed. "I think so too, dear. But of course, no one has full control over their life story. We all manage to run into more twists and turns than we're capable of handling, but eventually, we learn to adapt and gain control over as much of our destiny as we can."

"My story's only half as confusing as hers," Jack said. "I was born in the 51st century and became a time agent and conman. I was given a task not that different from River's, and that was capturing a past version of her husband…"

"And like all other would-be capturers of my husband from the past, he failed," River added in with a mischievous smile.

"I failed in part due to meeting the most charming psychic girl I'd ever encountered in my travels, and in part due having to face some scary children in gas masks who threatened her and River's husband, better known as the Doctor. It helped that this version of him was just as charming and good-looking as Rose the Psychic Girl, of course. As a result, I joined them in their travels for a while, before nearly being killed by some pepper-shaker shaped aliens known as the Deleks. When that happened, Rose transformed herself into a being called the Bad Wolf and made me become immortal, meaning that…"

"That you can't die, of course. I'm not stupid just because I'm part of the past, you know," Clara said stubbornly.

"Of course you're not," Jack said. "But if your only surprise comes from thinking that we thought you wouldn't know what immortality is, then I'm impressed."

"I think everything you're saying seems more than a bit odd, but I just want to know why you're here," Clara responded.

"All right, then. Are you ready to get another look at a future artifact?" River asked her.

"I think so," Clara said a little nervously.

River then placed two photos in front of her. In the one to the left, there was a young girl who had dark hair that went down to her shoulders and was dressed in a white jump suit. Her posture was perfectly straight, and she had a blank expression on her face, as if she didn't notice the camera was there. In the second, there was a tall, yet still young-looking, girl with hair that ran all the way down to her waist and wearing a dress made out of a tiger's fur, which only went down to her upper thighs and left her arms fully bare. Unlike the other girl, she seemed fully aware of the camera, and was actually glaring in its direction, as if she was annoyed by the fact that this picture was being taken.

But despite their obvious differences, they both looked an awful lot like Clara.

"The one to the left is Raina," River started to explain. "She was born in Hera, the planet where Time X was invented, in the year 4950. Because she was brought into the world two months before she was supposed to be born, she ended up being born blind. Since Hera has an extremely elitist society, all people with disabilities are legally considered inferior to everyone else, and Raina ended up being taken away from her parents and declared a ward of the state, being placed in a home for the incompetent. However, because she was later discovered to have strong talents in music at a young age, being able to play the piano, flute, and harmonica as well as professional musicians by the age of five, she managed to get the attention of Hera's royal family, and at the age of six, they allowed her to come live with them as a servant. From that point on, she would perform for both the royal family and Heran society at large by releasing albums and giving public performances which always attracted over thousands of people."

"So, when did you meet her?" Clara asked.

"I met her a couple days shy of her sixteenth birthday, back when I was still on the run from my fate to kill the Doctor," River went on. "I came across Raina after one of her public performances, and had a meeting not that different from the one I'm having with you right now. There, she admitted to me that she'd had little exposure to the outside world when she wasn't giving performances, and that she'd only recently started becoming aware of how the royal family and the government were keeping her confined to the palace walls because they considered her to be of lesser value than the majority of Heran society, as opposed to their longtime insistence that it was for her own good. Afterwards, she begged me to take her away from it all, and I ended up doing it, resulting in all those travels I've mentioned earlier." After saying this, she turned to Jack and said, "Go ahead with Lyssa's story, Jack."

Pointing at the picture in the right, Jack started with her story. "Lyssa was born in the planet Titus in 5004 as part of a strong warrior race. Despite the fact that the people of Hera consider them to be savages, they actually happen to be almost as technologically advanced as they are, yet they prefer traditional wear and lifestyles because they think this will help them remain the most powerful warrior race in the universe. Lyssa had been recruited to the Children's Army at the age of eight, where she developed exceptional fighting and survival skills almost from the beginning. When she became fourteen, she became the leader of one of the Carnivores, one of the most respected group of warriors you could become a part of in Titus.

"But when Lyssa turned fifteen, she learned about a plan being devised by the Carnivores' elders to take some of the planet's spaceships and form a powerful raid of Hera. Lyssa fully rejected their plan and refused to participate, resulting in her being vanished from the Carnivores and the consideration of a death sentence by the elders. And that of course, lead to our little meeting and the biggest face off I ever had with a group of warriors. I would have been killed if Lyssa hadn't confronted the elders once again and killed most of them off."

"But why is it that they both look like me?" Clara asked.

"The reason why, Clara, is because they're supposed to be different versions of you," River explained. "They have the purpose of saving people like us, who travel across time and space and risk some of the biggest threats in the universe. Since Jack and I finally managed to meet up with my dear old Doctor at the right place and time, we were able to discover that we'd both met what we call your echoes, and that both Raina and Lyssa gave some clues as to where you might be. As you probably noticed, they got a couple of details wrong, like assuming the seventies meant the 1970s and that your parents were alive, but they correctly guessed that you were living under somewhat impoverished circumstances in London, and something having to do with liquor and taverns."

"That's because Uncle William works in a tavern," Clara explained.

"Yes, I suppose that makes sense," River said. "So, that's at least part of the story. Did you have any more questions?"

 **Next, Jack and River aren't done showing Clara all of their future devices, and one of them could result in the possibility of Clara having her first major adventure. Also, Jack and River may not be the only ones on the lookout for Clara, as we meet a trio of aliens that might be a little too out of place in the Victorian era.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

"Yes," Clara immediately responded to River's demand for any more questions. "How were you able to get to 1876, because it didn't look to me like you were using a time machine?"

"Clever girl," River responded in an impressed tone. "Are you sure you didn't completely watch our arrival through the window?"

"Of course not. I heard most of the whooshing sounds as I was writing," Clara said.

"Guess that makes two echoes with exceptional hearing abilities," Jack joked.

"Oi! Enough with your jokes! I want to know how exactly you got here right now," Clara demanded, starting to get impatient with how they'd been withholding this information for so long.

"All right, Clara. No need to get all rallied up," River said. She then took something out of a small bag that had been placed on the table in a very careful manner, keeping the object covered with her hand until she approached Clara, and then revealed that the object was a silver-colored ring. "This here is something known as a time ring. It was originally used by the Time Lords in Gallifrey as an alternative to their time machines, but started becoming available to a limited number of creatures of all different planets who had some close connection to the Time Lords around the fortieth century, which started making time travel more possible throughout the universe than ever before. Thanks to the Doctor, I can use this almost anytime I want without consequences. Jack, on the other hand, had to commit certain illegal acts in order to get his hands on one of these."

"Hey!" Jack protested. "Zelda was almost as corrupt a time lord as the Rani was. If I hadn't stolen the time ring from her during one of her pseudoscience missions in 51st century Earth, she would have been able to carry on with her plans instead of getting trapped in the dessert for five years, and I would have never been able to meet Lyssa at Titus."

"Of course I know that, Jack, but it still resulted in you being blacklisted by the Time Lords for a crime committed against a prominent member of the Time Lord Academy," River said.

"So does this mean that I can travel with you using that ring, or will it be too difficult due to your situations?" Clara asked curiously. If she was able to travel across time with these two people, she would not only be able to explore more of the world than most people ever would, but she'd also have some of the best stories to tell based on her experiences, even if she would never be able to give every detail of her adventures.

"What do you say about that, Jack?" River asked. "Does it look like we'll be able to handle one more traveler coming along with us?"

"I don't see why not," Jack said. "After all, we were able to have several adventures with two of her echoes without causing too much serious distortions of the order of time, so there's no reason why Clara shouldn't be able to have some of her own."

"But Jack, remember that both Raina and Lyssa were teenagers when they traveled with us. Could it be possible that because Clara's younger there might be more risks involved if we have her along?"

"I don't think that's possible," Jack responded with perhaps a little too much assurance. "After all, if the Doctor's right on his observations, all the echoes possess nearly the same levels of strength regardless of their age. If Raina was able to handle the trips well despite her blindness, then who's to say that Clara won't be able to do the same even though she's only nine years old?"

"Good point," River said. Then, looking at Clara, she said, "So Clara, come over and place one of your fingers around the ring, because we're going to get ready to go now."

"But won't Mrs. Hawkins notice…?" Clara began, knowing how upset the woman would get if she were to discover that she'd been taken away by the guests whom she'd liked so much.

"We'll be able to get you back to this exact moment in time, so she won't even notice you're gone," Jack explained. "Now, are you ready?"

"Yes," Clara said eagerly, having already placed her index finger around the ring.

Not another word was said as the three of them stood close together, each with a finger around the ring. And as Clara tried to get a hold of River's hand, she heard the same whooshing sound which she'd heard earlier, and the whole room felt as if it were spinning. She let out a small cry of exhilaration as she started noticing that her home had disappeared and she was now flying in what looked like the open sky, with Jack and River yelling out in delight at the same time as she did.

…

The next thing Clara knew, there were standing in an empty alley shortly after sunset, where the only creature to witness the sudden appearance of the other two travelers and her was a gray cat making its way out of a rubbish can, who gave a shrieking meow before running out of there was quickly as if it were a dog.

"So long, Puss," Jack said with a grin. "Better you than a green-skinned lady who starts beating you with a stick made of thorns because she's convinced you're a vengeful ghost out to get her."

Clara giggled, looking around the place and wondering where they could possibly be. The sight of a red, white, and blue flag with stars on the upper left corner and stripes everywhere else that was hanging from one of the buildings was an immediate giveaway, and upon stepping out of the alley and noticing the same building with a large sign reading, "Happy birthday, America! 1776-1876", it was clear to her at least what country and time period they were in.

Further details soon came from the booming robotic voice from Time X as River and Jack joined her, as it stated, "You are now in Detroit, Michigan, United States of America, and the date is June 20th, 1876. The country is preparing to celebrate its centennial on the fourth of next month, marking the hundredth anniversary of its declaration of independence from Great Britain."

"Well, it's good to see that we're still around the same time zone," River said. "If we had ended up in this same city ninety years from now, then we would have risked causing a major paradox by having two echoes of Clara ending up in the same place and time."

"What's a paradox?" Clara asked.

"Something with qualities which conflict with one another," River explained. "In this case, the time period in which I traveled with Raina in this exact city would have experienced major disruptions if the two of us had ended up in that exact same point in time with you along with us, especially if we had managed to come face-to-face with my past self and Raina. Such incidents need to be avoided when time traveling."

"And why is that?" Clara wanted to know.

"Such an explanation would require a deep discussion of physics and how it plays into time, something which isn't my area of expertise, but which my husband fully understands and could talk about for hours without end," River said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I remember how he managed to make Rose fall asleep by my side after he went on one of his favorite quantum physics lectures during one of our more disastrous trips," Jack said with a smile.

"I see. So, where will we be going here?" Clara demanded, thinking that this city didn't seem all that different from London, except for the fact that it seemed a little smaller in size in terms of the people and buildings.

"Seeing what time it is, there's only a limited number of places we can go with Clara along. But given the fact that this is the nineteenth century, some places might be a little less strict about having children present," Jack said, doing his best not to meet River's gaze.

"And by some places, I guessing you mean bars or taverns, is that it?" River asked in a sneaky manner.

"Not really. I mean, there are probably a couple of restaurants and diners that will allow everyone in the family in, given the fact that this was one of those times when everyone was heading for the western territories," Jack tried to explain.

"I doubt those families would have stopped by major cities like Detroit, given how most of them traveled through the woods and prairies, but I do think there are some places that will let Clara in," River responded. Then, with a smile, she said, "As a matter of fact, I think I know the right place to go," and she turned towards the building with the sign and the flag, on which the words "Bill's Corner" were written around the top in black paint.

"This restaurant first opened in 1850, and was still standing when Raina and I came here in the sixties," River explained. "In this century, it was well-known for having both black and white people not only being served and working together without much conflict, but also having them give musical performances which never failed to attract large numbers of people from all over the city to come over. Also, it was always run by someone named Bill, and it wasn't always the son of the previous owner."

As she said this, a middle-aged man with suspenders and a brown, bushy beard opened the door and said in a cheerful voice, "Welcome to Bill's Corner, folks! My name is Bill Finnegan, the owner of this splendid restaurant, and it will be my pleasure to serve your family this evening." Then, patting Clara in the head, he said, "The little lass included."

"Why, thank you very much, sir," River answered in a polite tone. "It's been a rather busy night for us so far, and we could always use a little hospitality here and there."

"That's good to hear, ma'am," Bill responded with a smile. "Would directions to the nearest inn be of any help to you?"

"No, sir. We plan to be taking off as soon as we're done here, given the fact that we're travelers," Jack said.

"Travelers? Oh, so you're one of those folks heading for the western frontier," Bill said with a look of realization dawning in. "It's not going to be an easy journey by any means if all you've got is a horse and buggy, but if those folks who went from Missouri to Oregon all those years ago were able to do it, then so can anyone's who's strong and skilled enough."

"Actually, we…" Clara began, thinking that having this good man believe that they would be struggling through the wilderness for several months when all they did was put on ring to get this far just wasn't fair.

"Really appreciate your concern," Jack said, and he gave Clara a small push to let her know that it was best if she stepped inside right now with River and avoid giving them any unnecessary trouble. "But I've been planning our journey for over a year, and I believe that we'll be safe enough."

"That's good to know," Bill responded, now escorting the three of them to one of the larger tables set in the back of the restaurant, where there happened to be a piano set up around a podium. "One of the advantages of getting here later in the evening is that you get to see one of our many talented musicians performing. Tonight, we've got Marquis Grey, an exceptionally skilled Negro who gives some of the classics a beat which I don't believe to have heard anywhere…"

"Excuse me?" Jack interrupted, with a suspicious expression on his face. "Did you say Marquis Grey?"

"Why, yes," Bill said, looking confused. "If you think it's someone you might have heard of before, you might be mistaken. He'd been a mainly self-taught musician who'd practice at his old church back in Chicago, and only started giving public performances several months ago. Quite good for a self-taught man, I've got to say. But unless you'd stopped by Chicago a while back…"

"Yes, that probably explains it," Jack said, not wanting to go on further with the subject with him. "I've seen many musicians perform out here in the Midwest, so nearly every name sounds familiar to me."

"All right," Bill said. "Could I get you anything?"

"Just some coffee and biscuits would be all right, thank you very much," River said, looking as concerned on whoever this Marquis Grey chap was as Jack did.

"Coming right up, ma'am," Bill answered cheerfully.

As soon as he was gone, Clara whispered to Jack and River, "Do you two know who Marquis Grey is?"

"Yes," Jack answered. Then, after scanning the room for a while, he pointed a couple tables forward and said, "As a matter of fact, that's him over there."

Clara saw a tall and slender black man wearing a black suit seated in what appeared to be a very relaxed and overconfident manner, and he was talking in a charming manner to two women, one who was young and dressed all in black, and another who appeared much bigger and wore a velvet dress and a dark veil which covered her whole face. He also happened to have a ring around his index finger which didn't look that different from the time ring,

"Is there something bad about him?" Clara asked.

"It's not really that Marquis is bad, but he became extremely reckless upon going through some tough times at his home planet, and only slightly improved upon becoming immortal," Jack explained.

"His real name is Marquis Gregorian, and he's from Titus. He's what they call a professional soul man," River added in.

"What's a soul man?" Clara asked.

"In about thirty different planets, a soul man or woman is someone who's in charge of handling all matters related to the supernatural. Given how much of the world is now heavily scientific, certain species have been able to clearly distinct what forces of nature can be logically explained and which ones can't. If the planet's most influential scientific professions can't discover an explanation for some sort of weird phenomena, then they seek the help of the soul people, who get that title due to the fact that many of them have the ability to communicate with the dead. My friend Rose also happens to be another, although she tends to prefer being called psychic due to her additional abilities and the fact that the term 'soul person' was never used in her time period," Jack went on.

"Marquis Gregorian was the son of Jonah Gregorian, who was the most powerful and sought after soul man in Titus' history," River said. "He was amongst two of Jonah's four children to inherit his father's gifts, with the other being Percy, who was two years older than Marquis. When Jonah's wife Pandora was killed by what was believed to be a vengeful spirit of a former Titan general shortly after the birth of their youngest son, he changed very drastically. He became very fanatical, as well as authoritarian, and sometimes abusive, towards his children, insisting that they stick to very strict rules, including that Marquis and Percy remain working with him into adulthood, with Jonah having final say over everything they did."

"While Percy remained loyal to his father out of fear, Marquis had been secretly rebelling since he was a teenager, becoming interested in music after getting involved with a band made up of people his age who'd been exempt from military service due to mental health reasons," Jack continued. "Jonah forbade music of all kind in his home because he believed it summoned evil spirits, and he'd once beaten Marquis for playing a drum in the house when he was only eight. However, this did little to decrease Marquis' love of music, and he started making plans to leave home, and eventually Titus, using an old hovercraft and becoming an intergalactic musician, meaning he would travel around different planets and perform wherever he could."

"But before he could act on his plans at the age of twenty-one, Jonah somehow found out about his plans, and as punishment to him, he neglected his spirit hunting duties for a month, resulting in a spirit from the underworld killing Pennie, who was Marquis' band mate and girlfriend, during the middle of one of their rehearsals. Deeply saddened and angered by what happened to her, Marquis returned home to confront his father, and they got into an intense and violent argument. Lyssa, who was training not that far from their home, was called upon to investigate the situation. Shortly after she arrived, the spirit that killed Pennie had gotten in, attacking both Jonah and Marquis. With Percy's help, Lyssa helped bring down the spirit using special arrows made with a poison that kills evil spirits. However, the violent confrontation had killed Jonah and severally injured Marquis, so in a desperate attempt to save him, Percy gave him a potion meant to heal the wounds of good spirits and the living who'd been injured by evil spirits, which both he and Lyssa later discovered to have caused his immortality."

"This was one of the actions which led to Lyssa becoming appointed a general, and what ultimately freed Marquis from any responsibilities in Titus. He left the planet shortly after the incident, and has been roaming around the galaxy with his time ring ever since, playing in intergalactic night clubs and occasionally hunting down the supernatural when he feels like it."

"Jack and I have both met him before during our travels with your echoes," River added in. "He was the one who helped guide Jack and Lyssa around after Lyssa's exile, and he eventually remained here in Detroit for the next ninety years, because he provided Raina and me with a place to stay after we had enough of the professor, and even introduced us to Stevie Wonder."

Clara looked at Jack and River with astonishment. "So, time traveling, aliens, and ghosts are all real. I suppose next you'll be telling me that you've seen Father Christmas flying around at midnight, or that you had your greatest wishes granted by a fairy."

Jack laughed. "Father Christmas hasn't been alive for over three hundred years, but many have tried to take on his role in different planets, and weren't able to deliver gifts beyond the cities closest to them, and fairies have been confined to two unidentified planets, being officially banned from both Hera and Titus in the forty-ninth century."

"And what are you going to do about Marquis Grey? Are you going to meet up with him, or will we have to leave?" Clara asked.

"When Marquis met me, he already knew who I was, and had some idea about Raina's identity which I couldn't understand at the time," River responded. "So I've known that I'm supposed to be meeting him at some point in my future, and from meeting you today and being with us at the moment, I now understand that he already knew about your echoes at the time he met us."

"In other words, we'll have to interact with him whether we want to or not. And when it comes to people like Marquis, you never know if your meeting with him will be a good one," Jack said.

…

As the three time travelers were going over the unexpected situation, Marquis Gregorian had gone outside, talking with what had to be the strangest couple he'd interacted with in his travels across the galaxy: Jenny, a young British woman who at first sight appeared to be just another simple Victorian lady of low social status, but who ended up nearly flinging him across the ceiling of a tavern upon their first meeting (they were on good terms now), and Madame Vastra, a very gracious yet sharp and inquisitive creature whom upon taking off her dark veil turned out to have the green skin of a Silurian, a species whom the Titans had fought so many times that even the most clever of Titan generals couldn't keep count of all their battles with them.

"So, will you two be sticking around for the centennial in a couple of weeks? There's nothing like witnessing a great historical moment, isn't there?" Marquis asked them, keeping his arm around Jenny's shoulder, something which annoyed Madame Vastra ("What do you believe gives you the right to be so intimate around my wife?" she'd demanded the first time she'd caught him doing this), but which Jenny seemed to secretly like, always responding with a small blush and smile whenever he did this.

"Don't even suggest it," Madame Vastra said in a disgusted tone. "If you want to witness a historical moment, then go fly off to the actual signing of the Declaration of Independence and see those white-wigged rebels discuss whom they considered to be equal under their flawed little world views. The only thing historical about the centennial is that a record number of drunken scoundrels were heard screaming about how free they believed they were throughout the whole galaxy, even as they blasted dozens of multicolored bombs for no purpose other than the fact that they loved all the noise and shining lights."

"Oh, Madame Vastra, why do you have to be so cynical all the time?" Jenny complained. "I think staying for the Fourth of July would be fun."

"You can't disagree with the wife, Madame Vasta," Marquis said with that charming smile which always seemed to win women over.

"Well, I'm sorry Jenny, but it's just not worth my time," Vastra insisted, not buying into Marquis' charm for even a minute. "There are already enough noisy freeloaders in this city as it is, and it was just our luck that one of them was generous enough to help us out tonight. Imagine just how many there will be once the fourth comes around, and I'm sure some of them will be much more perverted than Mr. Gregorian here. And if he's right about how this place is in the future, with all the filthy automobile factories and that terrible music industry that made Silurian pop sound like Beethoven, then this city is going to severally digress over the years."

"Hey! General Motors and Motown helped make this the most influential Midwestern city next to Chicago," Marquis protested. "The city may have fallen under hard times later on, but the auto industry in particular helped keep the city going for over sixty years, and Motown made it into another Hollywood of sorts if only for a couple of years." All this information resulted in a look of confusion from Jenny, whom being from this time period knew of how the future would be like.

Vastra, on the other hand, just shook her head in disappointment,not impressed at all by Marquis' tales of Detroit's future. "Sixty years on Earth is the equivalent of six months to Silurians, so through our eyes, this city will be considered a failure in the twentieth century, and the same might be said for the rest of this planet during that time," she responded. "Now, the one and only reason Jenny and I are here is because we're supposed to be on the lookout for a girl named Clara Oswald, whom our friend Rose Tyler, who happens to be a soul person just like you, told us would show up in that restaurant we were just in at approximately…"

At that moment, a plump woman let out a small yelp. "What is _that?"_ she shrieked, pointing at Madame Vastra. "Is this some Scarlett Fever patient? Is the disease turning people green now? Oh, goodness, I will have to warn my husband about this!"

"Scarlett Fever doesn't turn people green, you idiot," Jenny called out defensively. "You happened to just insult my dear wife, who is part of one of the most powerful species in the galaxy. Now you'll either show her the respect she deserves or face her wrath!"

The woman then appeared to be turning a little green herself, and turned away from them in disgust for a moment. When she finally managed to speak, she said, "You… you're in an intimate relationship with that… that _thing?_ Oh, my stars! I think I've truly gone mad now!" She then started running out of their way as fast she could.

Marquis and Jenny started roaring with laughter. "So much for acceptance of interspecies couples, right ladies?" Marquis said in a very hysterical manner. "Looks like that woman certainly has a bad case of hysteria, as people in this century would say!"

"Not so much hysteria as a stubborn sense of species superiority," Jenny said, struggling to control her wild laughter, which annoyed Madame Vastra almost as much as Marquis' flirtatious attitude towards women.

"Enough, you two," Madame Vastra complained. "I feel as if I'm with a pair of hyenas rather than two semi-respectable adults. It's best that we remain focused on investigating Clara Oswald and forget about all this other silliness."

"But I thought we got all the information on her already. She's with River Song and Captain Jack Harkness, she'd already traveled in the time ring and understands a little about the process, and Marquis noticed that she strongly resembles Lyssa, the fallen Titan general. As far as we know, Rose was right about everything she told us about her. What more do we need to know?" Jenny demanded, wishing Vastra would take a small break from playing detective once in a while.

"I'd have to do go with Madame Vastra on this, Jenny," Marquis said, for once agreeing with Vastra on something. Anything involving Lyssa, the girl who'd rescued him from the evil spirits, and that flamboyant time agent who'd been her accomplice, was of major importance to him. "Best to get back in there, get the performance started, and stay in detective mode for the next hour."

 **Next, how exactly will Marquis Gregorian introduce himself to Clara Oswald, and how will he react to seeing Jack once again? What will Madame Vastra and Jenny** **do to pitch in, and how will Clara respond to meeting both this "soul man" as well as this eccentric, interspecies lesbian couple?**


	4. Chapter 4

After getting back inside, Marquis went into the small dressing room next to the kitchen, which was reserved for the use of musicians. He'd brought along a ragged bag to convince Vastra and Jenny that he was going to be changing here (even though Vastra insisted that unless he was really that vain, he should have seen no need for changing out of his clothes, since they were admittedly some of the best she'd seen in any musician). However, once he'd locked the door, he put the bag on a bench, got down on his knees, and closed his eyes for exactly sixty seconds, waiting to see if any visions would run through his mind.

If there was anything good which his father had passed on to him, it was the often unknown fact that if a soul person took time off from their regular routine to settle down for a while and engage in a moment of silence and deep meditation, it would allow any visions, whether good or bad, to start appearing. "Best to let it happen when you're alone and in a calm state than when you're in front of an army who will turn away and dismiss you as a weak lunatic," he'd told Marquis when he'd been only eight years old. His father may have been a hard and often cruel man, but he rarely told a falsehood.

Plus, this gave him some time to avoid seeing Jack. Although Marquis understood some of the reasons for his past misdeeds (even in Titus, the story of the Time Agent who'd sacrificed a group of innocent children in order to save the planet Earth was repeated very often, and resulted in much of the disdain Titans had towards humans with otherworldly powers, despite the fact that some of the most devoted Titan warriors would have done the same thing), there was something about him that, despite his usual friendliness and mischievous ways, still seemed cold and heartless. He never liked talking about his family and friends on Earth, saying that they were part of the past, and therefore, it was better to forget them than to spend the rest of his life grieving over how he'd wronged them, and he even called Marquis a fool for believing that his mother just might be in a better place despite being killed by vengeful spirits. "There can't be anything better in store for people after death," he'd once said angrily when Marquis brought this up. "You of all people should know better."

"But didn't Rose Tyler tell you stories of spirits who were at peace with themselves?" Marquis had asked him.

"Rose always liked believing there was hope even for the most heartless of monsters. I doubt anything she said about good spirits in some eternal paradise was true," Jack had responded dismissively. Marquis never brought up the subject to him again, and neither did Lyssa, since she tended to side a little more with Marquis on the issue of spirits not being doomed to eternal torment. She once told Marquis that she sometimes wished she could stay with him rather than with Jack, because he seemed to have such a dark view on life and the nature of all beings within the universe. However, her loyalty to Jack on account of taking her away from Titus permitted her to stay on with him.

At the moment, however, despite the bad memories of Jack, no visions appeared to Marquis. All he could hear was the overly enthusiastic patriotic speech coming from Bill the restaurant owner, and the uproarious applause coming from the clients, who were without a doubt full of pride over the triumph of their founding fathers a hundred years before. As a matter of fact, upon entering this restaurant, Bill had actually asked Marquis if he was thankful that the triumph of the Union had brought about the freedom of his people. Marquis had answered by saying that he often felt as if he were still enslaved (although to him, being enslaved had meant being under the strict control of his father nearly his whole life) due to all the hardships and racism which he still had to face, but that slavery had been a much worse evil, and he would always be thankful that his people were no longer treated as mere property for white people.

And outside of the dressing room, Clara, Jack, and River, as well as Madame Vastra and Jenny, were taking in every bit of this somewhat amusing speech, which had ended like this:

"And yes, folks, the Declaration of Independence hadn't resulted in the automatic freedom of all men settled in the United States of America. It took about seven more years and dozens of battles which brought about bloodshed and suffering in places ranging from Lexington and Concord to Valley Forge. But the words in that famous document which our Founding Fathers had come together to create back in July 4, 1776 were not forgotten for even a minute by all the men who fought for our freedom from the British. And now, a hundred years later, more of our people are experiencing this freedom than ever before, on account of the triumph of the Union eleven years ago, and even more will, and all because of the bravery of these men a hundred years ago in the war for independence!"

The end of this speech resulted in the loud applause of nearly everyone present, including from Clara, who was impressed by how happy and proud this man sounded when talking about freedom and courage brought about by the sacrifices of the past. Speeches like this were frequently a part of her lessons on British History during school, and even though Uncle William sometimes complained about how her teacher felt the need to this as often as possible ("Patriotism inspires just as much arrogance as it does loyalty," he once told her), Clara shared the view of many children of the time that it was good to show loyalty to your country, and despite some of the things she'd been taught about the American Revolution, she thought that the Americans deserved to this just as much as the British.

"Did you like that speech?" Clara asked River and Jack, who both seemed a little less impressed than she did.

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure I've heard better speeches coming from drunken aliens in Martian bars," Jack responded.

"My husband has given speeches that are powerful enough to defeat the darkest forces of the universe without ever laying a hand on them. He would have been able to overshadow Bill any day," River said with a smile.

"River, you said that another man named Bill was running this restaurant in the future. Was he anything like this Bill?" Clara asked.

"If you're asking whether he went around giving patriotic speeches in front of all his customers, the answer is no," River answered. "The Bill I met was a more reserved man who was mainly indifferent towards politics, saying that he was around to serve whoever came into his restaurant, without consideration into race, religion, or political views. However, there were occasions when he let certain less than civil behavior go on without interfering."

"Like what?" Clara asked.

"One of them involved Raina," River explained. "We went into the restaurant at night and there was a janitor who was mopping the floors. Upon seeing us come by his side, clearly seeing how I was escorting Raina around, he went on with what he was doing. When I told him to please make way for us, he said that we could turn to the other side to walk around, and there couldn't possibly be a reason why I should go around holding the hand of a teenaged girl who should have been perfectly capable of walking on her own. I started to explain that Raina was blind, but he just scoffed, saying that people like her should be kept in their homes at night instead of being brought into public places where they were a nuisance to others and exposing themselves to danger."

"That sounds horrid!" Clara said in shock. "What did you do about it?"

"I got angry and threatened to report him to Bill," River continued. "But then Raina started getting upset about how we were making such a fuss about her and told me that she would try to make her way around by herself. I tried to stop her, but she went ahead and then tripped on the spot where the janitor had mopped the floor, severely spraining her ankle and getting bruises on her arms and legs. It was then that the janitor got upset and the other costumers started paying attention to us, but I didn't say anything about it; I just got Raina out of there as soon as I could. We wouldn't have gone back there except that Marquis later told us that the janitor had gotten fired, but not over what happened to Raina; it had been over a racial slur used towards a customer."

Clara shook her head in disgust, thinking that if she had been around when this happened, she would not let the janitor get off that easily. If anything, she imagined herself having some heroic role in the situation, especially considering the fact that Raina looked so much like her and could easily have been mistaken for her sister.

That was when they finally saw Marquis walking out of the dressing room. However, they all noticed that the only thing different regarding what he was wearing was that he had on a black hat and that the ring he was wearing before was now off.

Upon making it to Jack, River, and Clara's table, Jack gave him a rather uneasy smile. "Long time no see, Marquis. What have you been up to…?"

"Don't start on this now, Jack," Marquis answered seriously. "I have work to do. I've got all I want to know from you written right here." He then handed Jack a small, folded piece of brown paper. And before Jack could say anything else, he walked away from them.

"Marquis, is something wrong?" Jenny asked once he approached the table in which she and Madame Vastra were seated, which was very close to the piano where he was about to perform.

"I can't talk now, Jen. Let's save all the talk for later," Marquis responded before rushing off once again.

"Good to see that he's acting sensibly for once," Vasta said with a satisfied smile.

Marquis then set foot on the platform next to Bill, who said with the same exuberant tone as before, "This young man is a self-taught musician, having practiced for years in Chicago before coming to us here in Detroit. He's proud of the freedom his people have obtained and hopes to express his pride and joy through his music. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Marquis!"

A round of applause began again, and as was expected from a courteous performer, Marquis gave his audience a big smile and bowed, trying his best not to let his growing feelings of unease become noticeable. No visions had come to him in the dressing room, but as he'd walked out, the racing of his heart and feelings of dizziness which came about before those haunting images started running through his mind had started. It had taken all the strength he had to not pass out as he walked up to the platform, as well as to avoid snapping at Jack and Jenny when they'd tried to speak to him.

 _Relax,_ he thought to himself as he sat on the piano bench. _Focus on the music. There's nothing like good old ragtime to scare those damned souls away._

And then, he started in on the lively piece he'd been working on composing all week. It would be about two decades before ragtime would become popular amongst Americans, but in his short time in this century, Marquis had learned that in nearly every bar in the country, people always loved listening to something wild which they wouldn't hear in an opera or church choir. Rock and disco were certainly out of the question at this point in time, but you could always be experimental with the piano without anyone raising too much of an eyebrow. And the more the performer put their heart into the music, the more the listeners got carried away by it, feeling free to forget the rigorous norms which they subjected themselves to for at least a while.

It worked well at first. Marquis soon found himself smiling and picking up on the beat a little more, encouraged by the applause and cheering of his audience. Pretty soon, nearly half the people in the restaurant got out of their seats and started dancing with one another, whether it was their spouse, the lonely old maid who took had her meals at the restaurant every evening due to her inability to cook, or the blacksmith who came in for a good bottle of whisky after a hard day's work. All troubles and differences were forgotten for a while, with everyone laughing hysterically and spinning around the place, having the time of their lives.

As a matter of fact, only a couple of customers remained in their seats. Amongst them included Madame Vastra, who refused to budge from her seat even as Jenny pulled her by both arms with all her strength, begging, "Oh, please, Vastra! Why do you always have to be so hesitant whenever some opportunity comes up to enjoy yourself?"

Vastra scoffed. "This farce of music is the last thing I'd ever find enjoyment in, Jenny. For years, the piano was used to create musical masterpieces, something which aroused the senses yet inspired you to think clearly and develop an appreciation for art. It was this type of rubbish which caused music to go from being a force of inspiration to a brainwashing mechanism for the masses. Just look at what happened to all these people just now, going from sitting down in a civilized manner to moving their bodies around in the most perverse manner possible! And here I was thinking that Marquis had enough sense to keep the primary method of destruction of the next century away from the Victorian period!"

"I thought you said some form of nuclear devices brought about their downfall," Jenny said, with a look which made it clear that she had something else in mind other than determining the downfall of humanity in the twentieth century.

"That was one of the things I mentioned beofre, Jenny. You'd understand if you had been listening like the sensible young lady I expect you to be," Vastra said with a hint of affection in her voice despite her frustration, which was pleasing enough to Jenny, who thought that perhaps now was the chance to get her to join in on the fun for once. "So, does this mean…" she began in the most cheerful tone she could muster.

"You obviously never listen, Jenny," Vastra responded in an annoyed voice, but she now willing held on to Jenny's hand, slowly getting up from her chair. "However," she said with a small smile, "what's a weakness to humans always seems to make us Silurians stronger. Do you mind me taking advantage of your weakness for wild early jazz for just this once, my dear wife?"

"It would be my pleasure, Madame," Jenny said with a mischievous smile, and before Vastra could think twice about, the two of them started swinging around joyfully, forgetting the usual pressures to stay behind the scenes for once and getting in on the action, not regretting it for a minute. Marquis even caught them in on it, giving them a wink as he saw the strange pair dancing around with all the others. _Perhaps Vastra will change her mind on the centennial after all_ , he thought with a grin as he kept up with the music.

The fact that Vastra had kept the veil on while dancing managed to draw the attention of a person or two, and that included Clara, who remained by Jack and River's side as they tried to figure out what was going with Marquis. "Can't you see that woman over there?" she whispered pointing in the direction of Vastra and Jenny. "Why is she…?"

"Not now, Clara," River whispered back. "Jack and I are discussing important matters right now."

The note, which Jack kept looking over anxiously, said the following:

 _What are you doing here, Jack? Have the Time Lords and the Titans pardoned you for your crimes, or are you still on the run? Where is Lyssa? Have you left her off at another planet, or was she captured for some misdeed she got herself into? You promised that you'd look after her, so you can only imagine what I'm thinking of you right now. I had my doubts about you in the past, Jack, but I was willing to look past your old sins and believe that you had the decency to look after Lyssa, that perhaps you were heading towards a better direction than I was. Now, with the news of both a Silurian and a soul woman from your past warning me about something you were possibly hiding from me, particularly regarding the woman and girl whom you're with right now, I'm wondering whether I was right to trust you all along. Speak for yourself if this is wrong; despite what you may think of me, I'm always willing to listen._

"How much do you think he already knows, Jack?" River asked.

"A little more than I originally suspected, guessing from the tone of his note," Jack said. "For all I know, Rose might have gotten in contact with him somehow, if that's what he means by a soul woman from my past. There's no way I'd be able to tell him the whole truth, though, especially the part about Lyssa going into permanent hiding on my account after my business with Zelda came up once again."

"Well, you'll have to admit at least part of your story to him," River insisted. "Otherwise, he'll see you as nothing but a con artist who'd managed to trick him into kidnapping the girl who saved his life, and it might affect what happened when I met up with him in the sixties."

"And how will we explain you and Clara?" Jack asked.

"Just tell him the truth. Marquis did recognize me when I met him for the first time, after all, so no harm can be done in being honest," River said.

Jack sighed. "I still wish I could somehow avoid this. I mean, we could just put on the ring again and fly out of here. Perhaps we could take Clara to meet her favorite author or composer or something, like you did with Raina and I did with Lyssa when we met the Brontes and Catherine the Great." Then, turning to Clara, he asked, "Is there anyone famous you've been wanting to meet, Clara?"

"Jack!" River complained. But Clara, not understanding much about the situation at hand, just smiled at him and said, "I do wish I could meet Louisa May Alcott, since she's my favorite writer and I want to be able to write stories that are similar to hers someday."

"Well, perhaps if River is willing to join us, we could take you over to Massachusetts and pay a visit. Of course, she is very prolific now in the seventies, working on a lot of stuff as we now speak, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be able to say no to us once I tell her that I'm a close friend of both Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson, and could even threaten to bring up her old crush on Thoreau if she has any objections," Jack said with a smile.

"I'd love that!" Clara exclaimed. Then, turning to River with a pleading look in her eyes, she begged, "May we please go, River? If there's anything I've ever wanted to do if I could travel through all of time and space, it would be to meet a famous writer."

"Well, I'm sorry, Clara, but we have other important business to take care of here," River said, giving Jack a serious look. "Jack Harkness, if you're not willing to face your problems, then you really are the most cowardly man in the universe."

"Says the woman who married a man that can run off to his telephone box at the first sign of trouble," Jack said in an annoyed voice.

"Oh, shut up! You're nothing like the Doctor and you're perfectly aware of it. Taking into account all the people that you either let die or directly killed in an attempt to save the universe, including your own grandson, Marquis has every right to be distrustful of you. He's been running from trouble as well, but none of it involved direct murder," River said angrily.

"Hey! None of that was my fault. It wasn't that different from how you were being forced to kill the Doctor, in case you've forgotten," Jack said sharply.

"I know, but I never pretended to be a hero in the process!" River answered back. "You, on the other hand, tried to justify every bad thing you did one way or another. And look at all the relationships which you managed to strain with that attitude, with your daughter, the Doctor, Rose, and Gwen. If you want to do the same with Marquis, then that's just going to result in yet another…"

"Jack! River!" Clara called out. "Look over there! There's something dark by Marquis' side!"

"What in the world?" River asked, but upon turning to look at Marquis, her eyes flashed with recognition. "No. We have to…"

But before she could go on, River, Jack, and nearly everyone in that restaurant, whether they were dancing or seated, got knocked down on the floor, with their eyes fully shut. Within a couple of seconds, the only ones who were still standing were Clara, Marquis, and what looked like a dark puff of smoke which nonetheless had the imprint of a ghastly face near the top, giving a sinister smile as it looked at what it had done.

 **Next, who is the villain which Clara and Marquis are about to face, and what will it take for them to defeat it? Also, has every person (and alien) in this restaurant been left unconscious, or is there someone who's still wide awake and aware of what's about to happen?**


	5. Chapter 5

Clara was the first among the two to break free from her state of shock, getting up from the spot where she'd been knocked down through what felt like a strong wind blowing through the restaurant, and calling out, "Hello? Is anyone else there? River? Jack? Are you two still here?"

Upon turning around, she saw River and Jack sprawled out under the table, both of them looking as if they'd fallen into a deep sleep, with none of the usual snoring, deep breathing, mumbling, or tossing and turning. As a matter of fact, they were so still that if Clara hadn't been over to feel their pulses, she would have believed that they were dead. But seeing as how this wasn't the case, she started shaking their shoulders very urgently, saying, "Jack, River, wake up! Oh, please wake up! Something queer just happened here and I have no idea what I should do!"

A while later, Marquis started rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision, since things started looking very blurry once the dark figure appeared around the ceiling, and he'd gotten so disoriented for a while that he nearly fell off the piano bench. Once he started seeing more clearly, he noticed that he was one the lucky ones; nearly everyone else was lying around the floor, either having fallen asleep or lost consciousness. As much as this scared him though, he wasn't completely confused over what might have happened. According to the stories his father had told him all those years ago, such incidents as this were common across the galaxy, where people would be enjoying themselves too much one minute and then knocked down to the ground in an unknown state the next, sometimes remaining unconscious for days, if not months in some planets, and other times getting killed, depending on how strong the attack was. The being responsible for this could never be identified, most likely because it would vanish as soon as the fallen started to awaken.

 _Could this be what's happening right now?_ Marquis thought anxiously. _Father said that these incidents are more common in primitive planets where people had little control over their deviant natures, yet he didn't say that more civilized planets never experienced this either. If anything, they were worse there because the habitants still allow themselves to be idle despite their higher intellect and ability to control themselves. And it was always night; that's something else I remember from the stories. Apparently, the time when people most tend to let themselves fall morally is at night, and this made it all the more convenient the being, who could get around more easily in the dark than in broad daylight…_

He then heard a little girl's voice calling out worriedly, "Is anyone awake? Please say something if you are! Everyone else appears to have fainted, and I don't know what's happening or what I should do!"

The British accent seemed to give off who she was immediately (since as far as Marquis could detect, there were three children in the restaurant, and only one of them was British), and upon hearing it, Marquis sighed in relief. Of all the people that could have made it through this scary incident, it was probably most convenient for him that it was Clara Oswald. If he'd found out that she had been harmed in any way, he had no idea what he would have done; the guilt of having let someone with a close connection to Lyssa fall under such an attack would have been more than he was prepared to take at the moment.

"Hey!" Marquis called out to her, waving his left arm to make it easier for her to see him. "Hey, Clara, you've got another survivor up here! It's Marquis, the piano player."

The sound of another voice immediately got Clara's attention, and upon seeing Marquis standing on the platform,with no obvious signs of weakness, she smiled and started running up to him. Words couldn't express how happy she was to find out that she wasn't alone.

"Marquis!" she exclaimed once she made it to the top of the platform, clasping her arms around him despite the fact that she didn't really know him. "Marquis, do you know what happened right now?"

Marquis placed an arm around her shoulder. "I don't know for sure, Clara, but I've heard stories of incidents similar to this since I was a boy. Apparently, some being that mainly gets around in the darkness attacks large groups of people that have allowed themselves to become too careless or idle. My father would tell those stories to me so many times that by the time I was an adult, I was too scared of doing something as simple as drinking a minttail…"

"A minttail? What's that?" Clara wanted to know.

Marquis laughed. He had to be careful of what he said to a little girl raised in the Victorian era; they didn't have the same access to information as children in Titus did. "It's a form of liquor made of mint which is very popular where I'm from. Kids as young as ten are allowed to have it, but my siblings and I were never allowed to have any, since our father believed that it would destroy our minds and decrease our morale."

"Your father sounds a lot like a vicar or one of the temperament leaders I've seen around London," Clara remarked.

"Yeah; as a matter of fact, where I was from, his role was pretty similar to that of a vicar, only with a lot more emphasis on evil beings and the bad side of human nature. Did Jack tell you anything about this already, or does this all sound…?"

"Yes, Jack and River already told me all about you," Clara responded.

"Good," Marquis said. "Is River the woman that was with the two of you right now?"

"Yes," Clara said. "She's a time traveler just like he is."

"So I heard; she's also married to one of the most well-known time travelers in the galaxy. Neither of them were highly regarded where I was from, but then again, very few outsiders ever were."

"Why was that?" Clara asked.

"For one thing, being a warrior race, the people of Titus were always at war with at least one planet, if not more. As a result, anyone who isn't a Titan is usually considered an enemy, and even if they form an alliance with a planet, they're still regarded with a lot of mistrust on anything which isn't related to intergalactic defense strategies. Also, the Time Lords, the alien race which River's husband is a part of, have the capacity to come to life around twelve times, if not more on some occasions. The Titans really hate anyone who's able to this, since they see it as a manipulation of the natural order of life."

"And is that one of the reasons you can't come back to Titus?" Clara asked.

"Yes; you seem to understand the situation pretty well for someone who's just learned about all this, by the way. Have you been exposed to unbelievable things before, or is this your first time hearing about such matters?"

"Well, my Uncle William has already told me that I was born behind the Big Ben, if that's you mean by unbelievable things," Clara said with a grin.

"I guess that could count," Marquis said with a smile. "Now, back to business…"

"Marquis, you fool!" they heard an angry voice yelling out. "Do you have any idea what you just caused with that horrific music of yours?"

It was Vastra, who was adjusting her veil as she was striding up to prepare for the confrontation she'd known she was going to have sooner or later with Marquis. This allowed Clara to get a full glance at her green, scaly face, resembling the face of a lizard rather than that of a human woman, and for the first time all night (not counting her encounter with the unknown being), she actually felt scared of the sight of someone outside of her world.

"Marquis," she said in a frightened voice, "who is that… creature? Is she going to harm us in any way?"

Marquis shock his head with a chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about her, Clara. That's just Madame Vastra, a somewhat civilized Silurian who's been able to survive in Victorian London a little longer than anyone would have expected. She's very unlikely to ever physically hurt anyone. When it comes to battles of the wits, however, she can attack you before you…"

And just then, Vasta flung a scaly hand across Marquis' cheek, causing Clara to scream, as she was expecting a much stronger attack on the way. Vastra, however, appeared to take little notice of her, keeping her focus on Marquis instead. "And if I discover that Jenny isn't able to wake from this slumber, then expect something stronger than a slap in the face. I might just forget my civilized ways and decide to go back to my old Silurian ways."

"No!" Clara yelled in defense. "If you try to hurt him in any way, then I'll kill you!"

Noticing Clara for what must have been the first time, Vastra turned towards her, saying in a shrill voice, "And hello to you too, sweetheart. You see, I was just showing your new friend Marquis that he shouldn't be so careless about his musical performances in an era when such sound has yet to be heard. Where I'm from, a slap is merely a sign that you should awaken from whatever fantasies you've convinced yourself of and prepare to face reality, not so much a physical threat as it is in your world. If anything, we think of it as similar to a spanking or a scolding."

"But is that really the only way you could have let him know this?" Clara demanded fiercely. "Was simply telling him too much for an ugly old thing like yourself?"

"Watch your tongue, young lady," Vastra said warningly. "Don't think that just because you're a child I'll go easy on you. We have a monster looming around the place, and if we can't face the facts and cooperate with one another, we'll have little way of defeating whatever this thing is. If anything matters to me right now, it's being able to save my dear wife Jenny…"

"Your wife?" Clara asked confusedly. "How are you able to have a wife?"

Instead of getting offended over this question, Vastra smiled and responded by saying, "It's something which someone of your time and planet will have a difficult time comprehending, but to put it simply, in the future, people are able to love anyone regardless of gender or species. Jenny is from your time and country, having worked for other people most of her life but never getting the respect which she deserved for all she did. But upon meeting me, she found someone who both understood and loved her more than anyone in this planet was capable of doing so, and I was fulfilled just as much with her. But, with the prejudices of this time, she has to pass off as my maid, something which surprising doesn't bother Jenny much. If anything, I think she likes thinking of our relationship as one of two working partners, maybe because of how she was never able to have such close relationships with her employers in the past."

"I guess this does sound good for the two of you," Clara said, still finding this relationship Vastra was suggesting to be somewhat difficult to grasp, but still willing to it if they were as capable of caring for each other as Vastra was telling her.

"Thank you for your understanding, my dear," Vastra said appreciatively. "At least someone here is willing to accept us," saying this last part while looking at Marquis.

"Hey! Just because I like playing around with Jenny sometimes doesn't mean that I don't accept your relationship," Marquis protested.

Vastra gave him a dark glare. "If it wasn't for your perverse music, Jenny would still…"

"Can we just do something about what just happened right now?" Clara demanded.

"But before we can, Clara, we have to know for sure if there's anyone else who's still awake," Marquis told her. Then, turning to Vastra, he asked, "Are you sure you didn't see anyone who wasn't unconscious, Vastra?"

"Well, a while before getting up, I saw someone jerking around the floor, looking as if he was trying to rise up, but couldn't because he was either too tired or something was keeping him down. He looked as if he was no older than twelve, and there was a couple by his side who must have been his parents," Vastra explained.

"One of the other three children," Marquis said thoughtfully. "Now, do you remember where you saw him?"

"Yes; he was lying in the direction of the window to the left of the entryway," Vastra responded.

"So, Clara, would you mind stepping down and looking to see if the boy is still there?" Marquis asked.

"Yes, Marquis," Clara replied obediently, and started going down from the podium to get the task done. Knowing that there was another child who was possibly still awake made her feel a lot better about this situation. As nice as it was to have Marquis (and even Vastra) by her side, she thought that having the company of someone who wasn't either an alien or from the future would make her feel more comfortable with this whole situation.

And just as Vastra mentioned, there was a slender boy with curly chestnut hair and dressed in a clean white shirt and suspenders, who was sitting with his legs crossed and with a frightened look on his face. Beside him two adults were sprawled on the floor: a plump woman in a lavender frock and matching bonnet, and a man with a long beard who was dressed in a manner very similar as the boy, and who also happened to still be gripping onto a whisky bottle.

Upon noticing Clara, the boy's face lit up a little, and he staggered a little as he tried to get up. "I… I thought I was the only one still alive in here until I saw you just now," he said in a heavy Midwestern accent.

"Well, neither one of us is actually alone," Clara said, offering a hand to help him walk around more steadily. "Marquis the piano player and another woman named Madame Vastra are still conscious, but you have to be careful of how you act when you see Vastra. She's a little… queer-looking, I suppose you can say."

The boy chuckled. "Looks like you found the right person to handle of this. I happen to have seen a number of queer things already, and until today, I thought that I was possibly losing my mind, or at least that's what Pa was always telling me."

"Queer things? What do you mean by that?" Clara asked.

The boy then started to look a little uncomfortable. "Why don't we start off by introducing ourselves first? My name is Benjamin Richards, I'm eleven years old, and I've been living in the city of Detroit throughout most of my life. My Pa's a carpenter, but he's not very good at what he does, in large part because of how he likes coming to places like this almost every night and drinking till he loses his wits, as you can tell by the bottle of whisky that he's still holding," and he then pointed to the bearded man with the whisky bottle to prove his point. "The woman with him is my Aunt Vera, who's been looking after me ever since my mother died six years ago. She's able to handle Pa better than anyone else, but even she can't talk him out of this bad habit. If I wasn't on summer vacation right now, Aunt Vera would have had me in bed right now, but with things as they are, I had to come along with them."

"And I'm Clara Oswald," Clara started, stopping for a while to think about what she could tell Benjamin. Upon deciding what to say, she continued, "I'm nine years and a visitor from London, and I came here along with some new friends of mine, Captain Jack Harkness and River Song. Since both of my parents are dead, I live with my Uncle William, who works in taverns by night."

"Is your uncle a drunk like my pa?" Benjamin asked, sounding as if this was a typical question to ask someone you'd just met.

"No, but there are some people who think he is," Clara responded, not thinking too much about why he'd want to know this. "However, he does like letting people know what he thinks about important matters, even if others don't agree with him."

"My Pa's the same, but that doesn't mean he's clever or anything like that; he just likes being as disagreeable as possible whenever he gets the chance, especially on political matters," Benjamin said, and Clara couldn't tell if he actually wanted to bother her with these remarks, or if he was just stating facts.

"Don't you want to tell me about the strange things you've seen?" she finally asked.

"If you insist," Benjamin said. Then, holding up his right arm, he said, "Can you see what this is?"

Clara examined his arm closely, and noticed a total of five black lines, two of them zig zagging and two of them perfectly straight, around the lower part of his arm.

"Why do have lines around your arms?" she asked him. "Did you make them yourself, or did you…?"

"Do you really think I could have done this myself?" Benjamin responded seriously, "It was that dark figure that made everyone unconscious that did it. It's called the Looming Cloud, and I've already seen it four times before. The first time was when I was six years old and in a restaurant a lot like this one when Pa and I were visiting family in Chicago. People got really wild in there, and it got so bad that the Looming Cloud didn't just make the guests become unconscious, but it also turned itself into smoke which spread itself across the city, being what actually caused the Great Chicago Fire; the story of the O'Malley cow is nothing but a tall tale."

Clara was shocked by this revelation. "How did you survive that?"

"Just as most people do: I threw an empty mug and plate into the window and went out through it. Six others went along with me, including poor old Aunt Becky, who still shakes with fear every time she thinks of that day, but those were the only survivors, since everyone else in there died."

"And what about the other three times?"

"For the two other times, they all involved a time when Pa was drunk, once at home and the other time when we were visiting one of his friends at a party. During those times, no one died, which explains why I have two straight lines around my arms; those happen to be the ashes of the Looming Cloud once it goes out. During the times when it feeds on a host, which happens when people die, it leaves behind lines that are curvier to show that it managed to fill itself up during its visit. This happened once again when I went to a fair last year, even though in that particular incident, only five people died."

"It sounds like you have very bad luck," Clara said sympathetically. Her Uncle William, while claiming that the concept of luck was a little silly, did believe that it was possible for bad things to befall on certain individuals more so than others.

"I honestly believe that I do, Clara," Benjamin replied solemnly. "As a matter of fact, I'm usually afraid to go to places like this one, but of course, despite having two lines almost as big as my own around his leg, Pa never remembers anything about what happened, so he forces me to come along with him whenever he gets the chance. But to be honest," and he said this with a dark glare, "I don't care so much about him as I do about my own well-being during these incidents. If anything, I sometimes think it'd be for the best if…"

At that moment, Clara noticed the dark figure which was the Looming Cloud spreading out once again, filling the ceiling with dark smoke, and then sending small swirling flashes down, probably aimed towards all the unconscious people, but landing instead on what was left empty of the floor, making a booming sound similar to thunder as it came down.

"There it is again!" she heard Marquis shouting from the platform.

"Run, Clara! It has less of a chance of striking us down if we stay up than if we stay on the ground," Benjamin shouted, and getting a hold of Clara's hand, the two of them started running around as quickly as they could. "If anything, we should head straight towards the door and get out of here."

"What about Marquis, Madame Vastra, and my two friends?" Clara asked with concern, stopping for a while.

"Forget them!" Benjamin said indifferently. "Would you rather survive or become the food of the Looming Cloud while trying to save people? As much as I wanted to, I never went back and saved anyone when I was about to die, unless you count breaking the window and letting a few others out during the Great Chicago Fire, but that was just luck on their part. So, let's just let ourselves out and pray that your friends can be just as lucky as us."

"Do as he says, Clara!" she heard Marquis demanding, having watched their interactions with each other for quite some time. "Your survival is a lot more important than our own!"

Clara's eyes started filling with tears, but she continued following Benjamin along, aiming towards the exit with desperation.

However, moments before Benjamin was able to get a hold of the doorknob, Clara felt her vision slowly starting to dim off, going from being very cloudy to fully white, and then pitch black, without the slightest glimpse of light.

However, her sense of hearing remained as strong as before, since she was able to hear Benjamin calling out in a panicked voice, "Clara, why are you kneeling on the floor like that? Did you just see the Looming Cloud?"

"Benjamin!" she screamed as her vision was slowly getting darker, "I can't see anything! I feel as if I'm becoming blind."

"Then it must be the work of the Looming Cloud," Benjamin said angrily. Afterwards, Clara felt his rough, calloused hand being placed gently onto her own, and then heard him saying in a voice which sounded more frightened than angry, "Clara, take my hand and do your best to keep your strength and continue following me around, do you…?"

But before Clara could hear what else he had to say, she heard a slow and quiet, yet deeply eerie voice saying, _This is the Looming Cloud speaking. Prepare to embrace the darkness brought about by your love for pleasure and let go of the dullness which makes up this small world you've been longing to leave for so long._

 _No,_ Clara heard herself protesting in her mind. _I never wanted to leave this world, I just wanted to explore a lot more of it! And I've never enjoyed night more than daytime. As a matter of fact, I sometimes get scared when all the candles go out and I'm faced with nothing but…_

 _I'm afraid your preferences will make little difference in your fate, my dear,_ the Looming Darkness responded. _The majority of the people in here, your new friends included, seem to view the night as attractive due to the mystery and ecstatic emotions associated with it. I like to play around with these longings and give people the full extent of their desires, which means they must experience the night for what it actually is: a time of darkness, without even the stars to guide them around. Think of it as becoming blind, but with the sensations of sleep taking over more so than your remaining four senses._

And after that, everything became fully still for a moment, and Clara wasn't capable of seeing or hearing anything.


	6. Chapter 6

The next thing Clara saw was a large forest, which unlike the ones in England, where you'd normally find nothing but old trees with bare branches or evergreens, had a variety of trees and plants, including palm trees and evergreens that made it all the way to the sky, apple trees that were as small as she was, and flowers that were either as big as the palm trees or so small that she found herself stepping on them.

Once she walked around for a while, she found huts which appeared to made out of steel, which took up half of the forest's spare space. Around the middle, she saw a large pile of wood with stones surrounding it. She immediately assumes this must be where the villagers gathered to have their meals, as she'd seen in some of the newspapers detailing the lives of the natives in certain parts of the world. However, once her eyes darted away from it, light blue smoke started rising from the wood, revealing images of warriors on spaceships and strange creatures chasing humans with weapons which couldn't have been made on Earth.

"Hello?" Clara called. "Is anybody here?" Then, considering the environment more closely, she thought, _How can I expect to talk to anyone here? If they're natives, they probably don't speak English, and will probably think of me as an intruder in their land…_

Then, to her surprised, she heard several loud voices yelling out in English, "Fight! Fight! May the true carnivore win! Fight! Fight! May the true carnivore win!"

She then saw a large group of kids, many of them wearing nothing but brown cloth which covered only parts of their bodies, who were watching a boy and a girl who were in a fight. The boy had his head fully shaved, wore brown cloth around his waist, and had red marks running though his back. The girl wore a short brown dress which left much of her back and legs exposed, had dark hair that went down to her hips, and wore a necklace made of colorful shells. The two of them appeared to be wrestling each other, with the girl gritting her teeth as she struggled to stagger away from the boy's arms. She was very muscular for someone so young, and the boy was tall and heavily built.

"You're going down, Lyssa!" the boy yelled. "Don't think that just because you're the strongest girl in school means you'll have even the slightest chance of winning this one!"

 _Lyssa?_ Clara thought. _Could that be the same Lyssa that traveled along with Captain Jack?_

And upon looking at her, especially when noticing her dark eyes and matching hair color, she noticed that Lyssa did look an awful lot like herself. Yes, she was taller and a lot more muscular than Clara was, but everything else about her so strongly resembled her own features that she could only assume that this was one of the echoes which Jack and River had talked so much about.

"I'm not going to win because I'm the strongest," Lyssa shouted. "I'm going to win because I have twice as much determination than you do, Orion. While you just like fighting for the kicks, I fight for honor and self-respect, things you wouldn't understand in a million years."

She then threw a punch straight into Orion's eye, resulting in a cry of shock from the boy and an increase in cheers from the crowd, particularly from the girls, who yelled out, "The true carnivore has risen! The true carnivore has risen!"

Clara, however, couldn't understand the appeal of this fight. She'd seen several of them during school and around the alleys, and they always occurred because of some long- time frustration between two or more men. Mrs. Hawkins always said that ladies were above that sort of behavior, which was one of the few things which Clara could agree with regarding the behavior of "proper young ladies". She wondered what must have been going on between Lyssa and Orion which caused them to come to this. Did certain warrior children hate each other this much, or could this be what they taught them in school in place of reading, writing, and arithmetic?

As Lyssa started hitting Orion much harder, kicking the boy in the chest and digging her nails through his chest, Clara found herself running up towards the crowd, yelling, "Stop it! Stop fighting right now!"

But to her surprise, no one appeared to notice her as she was getting into people's way, with everyone keeping their eyes on Lyssa and Orion. As a matter of fact, the only person who seemed to take in Clara's presence was Lyssa, who suddenly looked in her direction with a startled expression on her face.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" she asked, struggling to get away from Orion's grip as she tried to get a closer look at Clara."

"My name is Clara," Clara responded, but she noticed that Lyssa still looked as confused as before, demanding, "Can you please tell me something? I promise not to report you to the chief if you give me at least a little information about yourself."

 _She probably can't hear me,"_ Clara thought, feeling dismayed over how she couldn't communicate with this echo for some reason.

"Hey, Lyssa, who the hell are you talking to?" Orion demanded, wondering why Lyssa was getting away from him so suddenly.

"She must have suffered a blow in the head and is now seeing things," a girl from the crowd said.

"Or maybe she's seeing spirits," a boy said. "Perhaps this is a case we should bring up to the foreseer. He knows how to chase away evil spirits better than anyone in Titus."

"Are you all idiots?" Orion said fiercely. "She's deliberately doing this so that I can cease beating her! Well, guess what? It takes a lot more than pretending to see things to make me surrender!"

Lyssa then turned towards them nervously. "Stop acting as if I'm either crazy or trying to trick you! I just saw a girl standing in the crowd, and for some reason, I'm probably the only one that can…"

Before she could continue though, Orion threw himself onto her, smacking his fist into her chest and slapping her cheek with his other hand. Lyssa glared at him, and immediately jumped back into fighting mode, throwing a punch to his arm and managing to kick him in the face. The cheers went on as if that little interruption hadn't happened, only now there were a couple more individuals cheering Orion on instead of Lyssa.

After a while, however, Clara could no longer see any of them. Instead, she found facing the blue smoke rising out of the pile of wood in the village's center. At first, everything looked blurry and confusing, but after a while, she noticed a girl who looked like an older version of Lyssa fighting a giant whose skin was covered in green scales and who had only one large eye. It was waving what looked like a heavy grey stone in her direction, while Lyssa was aiming a dagger towards his chest, always failing to throw it because the giant would block her way with its stone.

"Do not think you can kill me that easily, you old beast!" Lyssa shouted. "I may be an exiled warrior, but losing my place in Titus didn't delay my fighting abilities in any way. Now prepare to meet your end, big boy!"

The giant laughed. "A warrior? To someone of my size and strength, you're nothing but a lilliputian in comparison, little gal! You're probably easier to bring down than old Jack. I honestly thought he'd learned his lesson about climbing beanstalks at some point in his long life, but apparently, he's a bigger fool than I'd originally thought. So, shut your precious little mouth for once and just face…"

"Not just yet, my friend," called out a familiar voice, and to Clara's surprise, it was none other than Jack Harkness, who was throwing some powdered substance up to the cellar, hitting the giant right in the eyes before he could aim his stone towards Lyssa. As the giant screamed in pain, Jack laughed and said, "Not so easy to attack us now, is it?"

"Do you think I need to see to attack, Harkness?" the giant yelled. Then, he let go of the stone, flinging it in the direction from which he heard Jack's voice. Jack yelped and leapt out of the way, but he was too late to help Lyssa, who then found herself being stricken in the forehead by the stone.

"Ah! Jack!" she shirked when this happened. Blood was now running down her forehead, and she found it difficult to get up due to feeling dizzy and uncoordinated.

"Lyssa!" Jack yelled, running up to attend to her. But before he could do so, a long rope whipped him across the back, and he was soon on the ground alongside Lyssa.

"Got better quicker than you'd thought, right Harkness?" the giant said, letting out an evil laugh as he went on beating Jack.

The whole time, Clara noticed that Lyssa was silently crying, trying so hard to keep herself under control and yet failing to hide how scared she was.

Before long, however, Clara was the one flinging from falling objects as the giant hurled yet another stone in Jack's direction, shouting, "Let's see if you can get away from this one, old Jack !"

And just as she hit the ground with a loud thud, Clara once again saw nothing but black. She trembled a great deal, repeatedly turning to her left and right to see if she could get even the smallest glimpse of light, but just saw endless darkness.

But after a while, she felt her elbow thudding against a hard, wooden object. And upon turning towards her back, she was relieved to find a small table placed in what was a large yet very dark room, with not even a window in sight through the hallow walls.

 _Where could I possibly be?_ Clara wondered.

As if in response, the door was suddenly flung upon, with a woman wearing a long red gown and every form of jewelry imaginable stormed angrily in, dragging a girl wearing a dark blue shirt, trousers, and equally dark spectacles in by pulling her by the hair. Once they got to the middle of the room, the woman gave the girl a push, causing her to fall on the floor with a cry as she hit the ground with a dreadful bang coming from her knees.

"Now thanks to your stupidity in front of my guests, you'll be spending the rest of the night here, Raina," the woman said furiously. "Perhaps now you'll think twice before placing my precious china at the edge of the table instead of in the middle as I've always told you!"

 _So, this must be Raina,_ Clara thought, looking towards the poor girl with sympathy. So far, it seemed as if she was treated just as badly as River had told her, if not worse.

"Please, your highness," Raina begged, sitting up on the floor with her face bright red from tears. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. The ambassador's son tricked me into thinking that I'd placed your tea pot on the right spot, and with all the people there…"

The woman slapped Raina's cheek as hard as she could. "Shut up, silly girl! The ambassador's son is one of the best gentlemen I've seen as a visitor, and if you believe that I'm going to listen to any more of your ridiculous lies, then think again. Act up one more time, and I'll put a permanent hold on your music lessons! We'll see how willing you'll be to disobey me with that threat in mind."

And with that said, she gave Raina a dark glare as she marched out of the room, making a big deal of slamming the door when leaving, no doubt because she thought the sound would bother the girl.

Once the woman was gone, Raina broke down in tears, with her body trembling and her hands on her spectacles, removing them to wipe her eyes. She made no attempt to move from her spot on the floor, and seeing how clustered this room was, with dozens of glass figurines adorning everything from the walls to the tables, and furniture or boxes occupying all corners, Clara could see why. Since she was blind, she could risk running into any number of objects and possibly hurt herself. Perhaps this, in addition to how dark this room was, was why putting her here was such a terrible punishment.

Clara then found herself walking close to Raina's side, putting her hand around her back to see what sort of reaction she'd get from her. Raina turned around for a while, startled upon feeling someone touch her. "Hello? Is someone else in here?" she asked.

This encouraged Clara, and so she said, "Don't be sad, Raina. I'm right here with you, so you don't have to worry about staying in this awful room all by yourself."

However, as had been the case with Lyssa, Raina only looked confused in response, She'd clearly heard nothing, which only made her loneliness much worse. "No. I'm probably just feeling things again," she said sadly. Tears started running down her cheeks once again, but she didn't so much as sob this time. Instead, she placed a dark chip in her ear, and soon, Clara could hear the room filling with music which sounded not that different from that which came from the time-x machine:

 _A boy is born in hard time Mississippi_

 _Surrounded by four walls that ain't so pretty_

 _His parents give him love and affection_

 _To keep him strong moving in the right direction_

 _Living just enough, just enough for the city…*_

Clara thought the song sounded lovely, even if it was sad, and she could tell that it was helping Raina feel better, because after a while, she gave off a little smile and started humming along to the song. Like Lyssa, she didn't look completely the same as Clara, since she was a little plump around the legs and waist, and while not as tall as Lyssa, she looked about two feet taller than Clara. However, that identification with the sadness of the song was just the same reaction as Clara had to reading the sad bits in Charles Dickens or Louisa May Alcott's books. If she could speak to Raina then, Clara was sure she would have shared this connection with her.

But then, just as the song reached its end, Clara noticed the room becoming much darker, to the point where she could no longer see Raina at all. After the flood of blackness settled through for a while, however, Clara found herself in an outdoor area, in a place surrounded by trees at one side but dozens of buildings much bigger and more nicely designed than those she saw in London.

 _Is this another planet?_ Clara wondered. _Or could it be the future version of Earth which Jack and River kept going on so much about?_

At around the same time, she was almost knocked out by a strong wind, barely managing to protect herself by clutching a nearby tree. Dozens of brown leaves and even bits of garbage (plastic wrappers and glass bottles which were labeled "Pepsi" or "Coca Cola") were being blown about, and Clara soon found herself being hit by a large poster, which included the following:

Motown Records Presents:

The 3nd Annual Detroit Music Fest

August 1-4 1966

Featuring:

Diana Ross and the Supremes

The Temptations

Marvin Gaye

The Four Tops

Stevie Wonder

And much more

 _So, this is Earth during the future,_ Clara thought, struggling even more to keep herself from falling as the wind continued to blow rather fiercely. This meant she must be able to find River and Raina together somewhere. At least she knew that Raina was a lot happier now, having River around to look after her and that musician friend that she became so close to …

"Raina!" she soon heard a familiar, yet very panicked, voice yelling out. "Raina, where are you? Call out if you can hear me!"

Upon looking around, Clara noticed that it was River Song. As when she'd met her, she had on very fancy clothes, which now included a dark velvet gown which looked as if it was made of silk or glitter, as well high heeled shoes, which for some reason weren't making it even slightly difficult for her to run around the park as she was doing at this moment.

"River, stop right now!" she heard Marquis' voice yelling out. "If you keep going around like this, you're going to find yourself being killed like some of the others!"

"I thought most of the people have disappeared!" River replied, making no attempt to turn back.

"They've found the bodies of six people now; all of them are believed to have died within seconds of being exposed to the smoke," Marquis said, placing his arm around River's shoulder to keep her steady, and the two of them ran towards the tree where Clara was to stay safe. Of course, they took no notice of her, much to Clara's disappointment. "As for all the Motown musicians, most of them are nowhere to be seen except for Stevie, who I managed to save just in time. He's probably just as worried about Raina as you are, not to mention about all the others. However, if the Cloud managed to let the Beatles go after attacking at one of their concerts just a year ago, then I think everyone else will be okay at the end."

"But still no sign of Raina?" River asked, her eyes full of worry.

"No," Marquis said, shaking his head. "But you must think of your own safety, River. I don't think you'd be doing John Smith or Amy any favors by letting yourself succumb to some mystical cloud because you couldn't resist being a hero again."

"This isn't about being a hero, Marquis, this is about possibly letting a girl whom I've worked so hard to protect all these months die because I let her down in the moment she needed me the most. If I lose her, I'll never be able to forgive myself for it. I might as well just…"

And just then, a man wearing a black robe and white collar like that of a pastor walked in, carrying a girl who looked like the older version of Lyssa, meaning that he'd found Raina.

A look of relief shot through River as she said, "Father Martin, you found her! How is she? Please tell me if she's okay!"

Father Martin had a somber look on his face as he said, "Raina's not responding much, Melody. She woke up at one point when I was attending her, but she couldn't respond to anything I was telling her. She then started making signs with her hands, using sign language to tell me that she couldn't hear anything at all. After that, she fell asleep and hasn't woken up since. I'm afraid the exposure to the smoke may have resulted in the loss of her hearing."

Upon hearing this, Clara noticed how River's eyes started filling with tears as she went over to pick up Raina. "No. Raina, please wake up," she pleaded, gently shaking her. "Snap out of it, Raina. I don't want to lose you!"

And before Marquis could stop her, Raina's eyes suddenly flicked open, and she started thumbing through River's hand, with a look of fear as she struggled to take in her surroundings.

"Father Martin, what's she saying?" River asked.

Father Martin took Raina's hands into his own, and she started making signs.

"She wants to know if it was you who'd been holding her just now," he responded, and then he signed back to Raina, no doubt telling her that River was with her.

The last thing Clara saw was a flicker of hope coming through Raina's eyes, probably happy to know that her most trusted friend was still alive. And then, she saw the same clouds of smoke that had settled into the restaurant in the past version of Detroit, along with those awful dark eyes that appeared to see everything, as it said:

 _How did you like meeting your sisters, sweet child?_

 *** The name of this song is "Living for the City", by Stevie Wonder**


	7. Chapter 7

"If this is what you think is a good meeting, then you must be a terrible monster indeed!" Clara yelled. "Why else would you want the first things I see of my echoes being Lyssa getting beaten by both that awful boy and a giant and Raina getting locked in a room and becoming deaf?

 _Because, sweet child, the three of you were brought into this world to save others from the many dangerous roaming around this universe, particularly travelers like your two new friends,_ the cloud answered. _From the moment you were all born, you were meant to face numerous obstacles which other luckier individuals aren't forced to deal with in order to gain strength from an early age. For you, it was losing your parents as an infant and growing up in London's slums. For Lyssa, it was having to become a child soldier and facing all the brutality which comes with the training. And for Raina, it was being born blind and having to work for a royal family which despised her._

"So you did this just to show me how all of us lead difficult lives? I think I learned enough of that from River and Jack's stories, if that's the case," Clara asked. She already knew she'd have a difficult time trying to shake off the memories of her echoes suffering, and to think that the Cloud seemed satisfied with itself for doing this to her was just unbearable for her.

 _Your capacity of understanding this situation so well is very impressive, Clara Oswald,_ the cloud replied. _Although for a sighted person like yourself to believe, it's easier to do so when seeing it for yourself than when hearing someone talk about it, don't you think so?_ _I also had to cut off any communication between you girls to prevent you from getting too attached early on. Both your own feelings and the future of this universe would be negatively affected by this. There's little risk of that happening if only one of you is fully aware of the presence of the two others though, or at least at the start, and because you're the one who's suffered through lesser hardships than the others, you were the one given this gift. Aren't you proud of this?_

"I would be if only there was some way I could help Lyssa, Raina, and my other friends with this power," Clara answered. "With things as they are, I would have preferred to stay at home with Mrs. Hawkins, if not at the diner with Jack and River. Now why are you keeping me like this? Don't you think I've seen enough?" Chances were, he just wanted to frighten her even more, and Clara only wished this power of hers could involve some way of killing this monster, just like in the fairy tales.

 _I thought it would be cruel to let you go without a clear understanding of what's going on around you. Now, as the darkness fades away once again, you'll start seeing more of the situation on hand._

After it said this, Clara's vision started retuning once again, going from very blurry to as clear as it had been before. And the first thing Clara noticed was a plump girl with her dark hair in a sloppy braid running around the park, pointing what looked like a futuristic gun in the air and screaming, "Wherever you filthy ghosts are, show your damn faces right now, or else you'll face a much uglier hell than the one you're destined to go to!"

"Who's that?" Clara asked, briefly wishing she were the one with the gun in her hand.

 _That's Eliza Stavros, one of Professor Melody Smith's, or better known to you as River Song, best students,_ the cloud replied. _Like you, she didn't have the best upbringing, having been raised by a single Greek mother in the slums of Detroit. But despite never being at the top of her class during her high school years, she still did well in both school and work, and ended up attending the University of Detroit, which is run by the Jesuits. That explains how that one priest you saw knows River and Raina so well, as he is a well-regarded history professor there and often collaborates with the anthropology department._

"Do they both know the truth about who River is?" Clara asked.

 _They have for three months now, which explains how Eliza managed to get her hands on that gun,_ the Cloud said. _It all happened because Eliza's younger brother Paul started exhibiting strange behavior- shoplifting, frequent lying and swearing, several dangerous fights, and a habit of talking to himself at unpredictable moments. After she and her mother saw him having what appeared to be a seizure, they took him to see a psychiatrist, who ruled out the possibility of him being mentally ill after running some tests on him. So of course, they then started believing his behavior had some supernatural explanation, which for humans usually comes down to a demonic possession. So, despite being Greek Orthodox, Eliza went to Father Martin, her ancient history professor, for help, since he was rumored by some students to know high- profile exorcists within the Church._

 _But before Father Martin could proceed with contacting an exorcist, Professor Melody Smith, who'd become a friend of his after several academic collaborations as well as his kindness towards Raina, intervened, admitting that she and Marquis had been secretly watching over Paul for several weeks now, and although the cause of his condition was supernatural, it was being caused by a ghost instead of a demon. And so, one night, Melody and Marquis showed up at the Stavros' apartment, and using one of their best resources, guns which are run by a powerful powder not found on Earth, they managed to get the meddling spirit out of Paul's body, with Eliza and Father Martin assisting them to the best of their abilities._

 _And of course, to explain how they had so much power, Melody and Marquis both gave off long confessions about who they were to their two companions. Being open-minded individuals, Eliza and Father Martin didn't think any less of them after learning that they were technically aliens, although they were concerned upon hearing how much trouble they'd both had in the past, wondering if there was something out there that might be targeting them because of this. And although no one successfully sought them out at the time, you can obviously tell they couldn't avoid trouble for long._

"And it's all because of you," Clara said angrily.

 _It's not all my fault, Clara. This had been destined to happen to the three of you for ages, and I only play a minor in carrying it all out._

Then, Clara heard a loud blast coming from Eliza's gun, as she was now pointing it towards the black smoke which kept accumulating around the sky. Several individuals lying in the grass looked up in a panic, but fell flat on the ground after clouds of smoke flew through their faces.

"Eliza!" she heard River calling out, who ran up to Eliza as soon as she heard the gun being charged. "You're not going to accomplish anything by using the Spirit Blaster in this situation. From what Marquis and I have managed to observe of the incident, there have been no ghosts involved."

Eliza immediately lowered her gun. "It's good to see that you're all right, Professor Smith. I was almost convinced that you'd been killed after seeing what's happened to so many others. But if it's not a ghost that's doing this, then what is?"

"Marquis believes it to be some mythical cloud which is said to destroy people in the middle of festivities," River responded, "I've heard similar stories when I visited other planets, and even Kovarian would mention them to attempt scaring me, but I never believed that such a force existed until today."

"I felt the same way about ghosts before I saw what happened to Paul," Eliza said. "Although I thought you'd be less of a skeptic after all the things you've seen for yourself."

River smiled. "You should always question what's around you, Eliza, since blind belief makes it easier for people and other beings to manipulate others. But you should never fully doubt either, because then you may be closing yourself off to either the most amazing or the most dangerous forces in existence within this universe."

"I couldn't agree more, Professor Smith," Eliza said, "But do you have any idea what's happened to the others? To Marquis, Father Martin, and Raina?"

"Marquis and Father Martin are safe for now," River replied. "Raina, on the other hand… she lost her hearing, supposedly because of exposure of the smoke."

"Oh, no!" Eliza cried. "That poor girl! And just when she was about to go on stage and perform the harmonica alongside Stevie Wonder, of all times."

"Yes. Bad luck sometimes strikes us at what's supposed to be our happiest moments, as I've learned all too well over the years," River said sadly.

Eliza held on to River's hand sympathetically. "I believe I actually heard her voice shortly after all the smoke started filling the stage. She was calling out your name and appeared to be begging someone not to hurt you. Then, something appeared to cut her off, because she started screaming and then I couldn't hear her at all. The last thing I saw was Marquis running up to the stage, and then I was pushed to the ground and saw nothing but darkness until a while ago. The fact that I couldn't see who was behind this was why I became convinced that it was ghosts."

River shook her head. "At least you came out of it safely and with all your senses still functioning," she said. "You know how much I hate having to count up casualties of people I've gotten to know so well."

"Do you know if there's any chance that Raina may recover from the deafness?" Eliza asked

"I have no idea, Eliza," River answered. "As far as we can tell, there's no known way…"

"River, Eliza! Get in here right now! If you stay out any longer, the cloud might consume you," Marquis yelled, just as a large gust of wind started blowing around the place.

"Eliza, follow me!" River commanded, grabbing Eliza by the arm as she started running over to the tree where all the others were taking shelter in.

But before they could get there, Eliza tripped, barely managing to press her hands against the sidewalk as the wind threatened to blow her away.

"Help! Professor Smith, help me!" she shrieked.

"Hold my hand, Eliza, and don't let go!" River said, holding onto Eliza's hand as tightly as she could.

And at that moment, Clara noticed Raina making desperate-looking signs in Father Martin's direction.

"What's she saying, Father Martin? She appears to be aware of how bad it's getting, seeing how scared she is," Marquis said.

"She says she's capable of sensing how desperate this force is becoming, and it's now trying to consume Eliza. Melody's doing her best to save her, but she may not be strong enough to do it alone."

"In that case, I have to step up in there!" Marquis insisted, preparing to run up to River as quickly as he could.

But Father Martin took a firm grip on his arm before he could go. "This doesn't mean it's safe for you to go up, Marquis! In fact, Raina's saying that you're more likely to get yourself killed if you go through it."

"But we can't just stand by and let it all happen either," Marquis said firmly, just as he heard Eliza's screaming getting louder.

Raina kept on signing, appearing to be giving a detailed story about something, but what Father Martin said was becoming dimer by the second. And River just barely managed to pick Eliza up in time, running up to the others just when the darkness spread throughout half of the park, with only the bodies of the dead and unconscious remaining visible.

"What are you doing?" Clara demanded. "Stop whatever it is right now!"

The Cloud laughed. _There's no use in that, Clara. After all, the fear of the people can fill me with almost as much energy as their bodies can. In fact, this full darkness may be enough to keep your friends safe, since I am less capable of consuming every person in sight if I am spreading myself across the whole place. Think of it as similar to packages being more likely to fall if someone has too many of them in their arms, if that helps you picture the situation any better._

"Can you at least promise not to hurt anyone else?" Clara asked.

 _I can't make any promises I can't keep,_ the Cloud responded. _Chances are, however, that at least the musicians will be spared. Can't afford to change major timelines any more than I have to, and with most of their memories of the incident being wiped, we should expect little chance of that happening._ _I should also let you know that we'll be leaving soon. Would you like to say goodbye to Raina before we leave?_

"How do you think I could do that if she's now blind and deaf, in addition to your claim that she can't communicate back with me?" Clara demanded.

 _Clara, Raina's a very clever girl. She knows four different versions of braille in addition to three versions of sign language. The blind losing their hearing isn't rare in the planet Hera, seeing how negligent they can be of the disabled over there, so she knew that she always had to be prepared for the worse. Failing to have both senses, her ability to feel things seems to have only heightened, so you'll be surprised at what she can still do._

Clara now found herself face-to -face with Raina, who was now seated quietly beside the tree on her own. For a while, she didn't do anything, but then a small smile spread across her face, and she took out a harmonica from a small brown bag she had around her waist, placing it around her mouth shortly after to start playing it. Although at first, she struggled to get the right notes, Clara soon heard her playing a song which sounded a lot like the one she'd heard when she was locked up in that cluttered room, thumbing through the harmonica without any apparent difficulty. It sounded very beautiful, and Clara had to restrain herself from trying to tell her how much she loved it.

When she was done, Raina looked directly at Clara with a soft expression on her face. Then she said, "I wish you good luck, Clara."

Clara gasped in surprise, but before she could say anything in response, a cloud of smoke gathered around her eyes, and she saw nothing once again.

"Oh, please! You couldn't at least let me say goodbye?" she complained, more annoyed now than she was scared.

 _That's as much as I could allow for now. Consider it as a favor for being somewhat cooperative,_ the Cloud said. _And now, we're off to see what's going on with Jack and Lyssa._

Clara then felt a heavy rush of wind, and did her best not to scream as she was blown into the sky.


	8. Chapter 8

When she came to a stop, Clara noticed they were now in a beautiful pasture, with sunflowers blossoming, butterflies flying towards every plant within, and even a rainbow illuminating towards the sky. Not that far off, she also saw some cottages that had been set up around a lake, where a rather small man with pointy ears was now fishing while seated in a boat which looked as if it came of the Vikings era. He was whistling a tune that sounded slightly familiar to Clara, but which she couldn't identify right away. Strangely enough, she also noticed that the roof of one of the cottages looked like it was decorated with white frost and candies of different colors.

"Why, this looks an awful lot like a fairy story land," she said to herself.

 _In a way, it is,_ the Cloud said. _This is a place known as the Land of Fiction, where all fictional characters can come to life._

"Are you serious?" Clara asked, starting to get just as excited as she'd been curious. "This is a land where I could meet Charles Dickens' characters, or Louisa May Alcott's?"

 _Not every character is here, but you're still likely to find at least one character from every major writer's stories, including some from works which haven't been published in your own time. Also, don't believe this universe is anything resembling a fairy story land. It used to be that most characters were restricted to using dialogue straight off their books, but after a revolution that took place here a while ago, the characters now have more autonomy than ever before, to the point where some questionable practices have become quite common._

"What kind of questionable practices?" Clara asked.

 _I suggest looking more into the land and seeing for yourself. I've grown quite tired of explaining every little thing to you, in case it wasn't already obvious._

"Well, I'm tired of having to listen to you. All you ever want to do is sound menacing and emotionless, but you always come off sounding very silly or confusing instead," Clara said, stomping off towards the cottages to see how many characters she could find. Given what the Cloud had told her, the little man she'd seen fishing was probably a dwarf or goblin from one of Grimm's or Anderson's fairy stories. Would he perhaps be willing to speak to her if she went up to him, or would he be either incapable of seeing her or distrustful of her because she was a stranger to the land? She would see about this later.

And just when she was halfway through the row of cottages, she came across the first of several familiar faces: a little blonde girl wearing a blue dress and a white smock, who was clearly Alice from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass,_ some of the first books Clara had ever read on her own which she'd truly enjoyed. Standing alongside her, however, was a boy in his teens whom Clara didn't recognize from any book. He was tall and thin, had hair that looked grey, and wore a red coat and a beaver hat, looking a little like some of the people Clara had seen in the future version of Detroit. He seemed either bored or annoyed at something which Alice was telling him, and Alice was glaring at him in response. Neither of them took any notice of Clara.

"For heaven's sake, Holden, do you ever listen to _anything_ people tell you?" she asked, with that high-pitched, inquisitive voice which Clara had always imagined she'd have.

"And has anyone ever told you you're just as annoying in person as you are in your book?" Holden responded in a mean-spirited voice. "I swear, David Copperfield turned out being much easier to get along with than you, and I never thought it would be that way when I had to get through his whole boring biography for English class."

"Boring? I thought you actually liked what you did for English class, considering how that was the only subject you did well in at school," Alice said.

"You don't have to love everything you do in a class to be good at it," Holden said.

Alice sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder why I ever made you into a knight in the first place. There are so many others here who've been helping me keep this place together despite their lower positions of power here in the Land of Fiction that I'm almost considering offering your place to someone else."

"Oh, come on! Do you really believe I'm the worst in the League of Knights? What about Becky Bloomwood*? One month as part of this group and she's already managed to get herself in debt by buying over half of the stuff available at the lousy markets they have around here. Emma Woodhouse is just as bad, gossiping about all the poor old spinsters from the fairy tales and trying to set them up with every handsome phony in the land. And let's not forget Rabbit Angstrom**. He tricked you into thinking he was using your pathetic pony to go find the remaining renegade cards from the Queen of Hearts' army, but ended up riding it to try escaping from the Land of Fiction, heading to Florida of all places. And yet you let him off with nothing but a warning because you bought into his whole story of trying to find his son. As for the others…"

"Could you please hush up?" Alice yelled, growing red in the face as she noticed several dwarves and animals standing on their hind legs listening in on their conversation. "We just came in here for our noon watch, and you use this time to criticize the other knights and daydream about Lord knows what. I know the others have difficulties of their own, but at least they show loyalty to me and put aside their personal habits when they're at work. You don't even seem to try sometimes, just wanting to prove to me and everyone else how you're right about everything while the rest of us are fools who do nothing but follow orders and try to live well."

Clara noticed one of the dwarfs whistling as Alice spoke, only to be slapped by a dog in a black jacket. He started barking at him, as if attempting to speak, but only getting shrugs and some laughs from the group of dwarfs who were accompanying him. This made Clara chuckle, but only seemed to provoke further embarrassment for Alice and even Holden, who were both glaring at the fiasco which was taking place around them.

A moment later, Clara noticed an old man with a beard and white robe making his way into the gingerbread house. He did nothing to interfere into the present conflict, just shaking his head and saying, "Best to let that child use her own wits to handle those old rascals. I spent over half my life dealing with hobbits and dwarfs, and they're always a handful whether they live in Middle Earth or this Land of Fiction. Monitoring Alice's rowdy League of Knights is a holiday in comparison to caring for those small but feisty lads."

Clara followed him into the entrance, in which the doorknob was made of a peppermint drop, and white frosting surrounded the door frame. Once she was inside, it didn't take her long to see just how rowdy the house's residents were.

On a plush armchair, a young woman with reddish brown hair was seated with her bare legs spread out on a bench, using a small brush to paint her toenails bright red. She was wearing a lacy pink shirt without sleeves and a skirt so short that Clara wondered if she had the slightest concern that it wasn't proper enough. Seated next her in a rocking chair was a dark-haired boy who was about Holden's age, but who looked like a silly illustration out of _Punch,_ since he had a big nose, wore a crown that looked as if it were made of paper, and was devouring what looked like big sandwiches rather quickly. Not far from them was a blonde woman dressed in more conventional clothing (meaning a long yellow dress that went down to her legs) who was playing the piano. She kept looking at her companions with clear disgust, rolling her eyes and whispering, "Why did I have to get trapped in a world with some of the most vulgar people in existence? These fools make even Ms. Bates look like royalty."

The boy made a face at her, while the woman shook her head and said, "Just ignore her, Jughead. As far as I know, Emma can't live a day of her life without attracting attention of some kind."

"I heard that, Becky," Emma responded.

But she hadn't just been referring to those two. Around the middle of the house, there were two figures dressed in white suits with matching masks who were yielding swords towards each other, occasionally leaping towards furniture to avoid getting hit, and just barely avoiding knocking over a vase before one of the figures placed it back on a small glass table. After this had happened, a male voice came through the mask and said, "Damn it, kid, you're way better at this than me. Guess chasing your sisters around on the yard gives you a lot more experience than being the star of your high school basketball team ever could." A female voice responded by saying, "I'm a lot more skilled in athletics than you believed me to be, Rabbit."

And seated all by himself in the furthest corner of the house was another dwarf, only this one showed none of the joy and playfulness of the others Clara had seen earlier. Instead, he was drinking a bottle of wine and reading an old book with yellowing pages. He kept glaring towards the others, not so much in disgust as with suspicion and sharp observation, reminding Clara of Uncle William.

Not surprisingly, he was also the first person to notice the old man walking in, after which he put down both the book and the bottle and said, "My fellow knights, would you mind setting aside your activities and welcoming in our friend, Gandolf?"

"More like our second-in-command, Tyrion," said Becky. But like everyone else, she set her paints aside and stood up cautiously to avoid getting paint on the floor. The two figures who were fencing took off their masks, revealing a blond man and a brown-haired girl in her teens (whom Clara noticed looked a lot like an illustration of Jo Marsh from _Little Women)._ Once everyone was standing, they saluted Gandolf and said in unison, "The knights of the Land of Fiction welcome you in, Gandolf."

Gandolf chuckled. "I thought I told you all that such salutations are unnecessary for me. I mean, if you greeted Alice like this every time she walked in the room, I'm sure you'd cause her to lose her temper more often than is usual for her."

"So, why are you here, Gandolf?" Jughead asked, with a voice just as silly as his appearance was. "Did you manage to find Captain Jack at all?"

"I wish that were the case, Jughead, but unfortunately, there's not a trace of our friend anywhere within the Land of Fiction's borders," Gandolf responded. He then placed a body wrapped in a brown blanket (which Clara had not noticed he was carrying before) on the crusty brown floor. "However, I did find Lyssa lying around in the middle of the strawberry fields. She was only cautious for a while when I picked her up, and all she managed to tell me was that Jack was trapped somewhere," he said in a soft voice.

Seeing Lyssa looking so pale and still made Clara shiver with fear. All the others looked just as shocked except for Tyrion, who regarded her with that same expression common in people who have lived through wars and other hardships. Becky couldn't look at her, while Jughead kept suggesting using some potions Gandolf kept around that could supposedly heal wounds (even though Clara doubted that any of her cuts or bruises had caused her to become unconscious). Emma exclaimed, "Oh, the poor child! If only she'd followed our advice and stayed behind instead of being so eager to play soldiers. Hunts for giants are no suitable activity for a girl so young as her."

"Oh, shut up, Emma!" Becky said. "Not everyone shares your early nineteenth century views of the world. Even Jo acts so modern that you wouldn't know she was from the Civil War era unless you heard her saying 'Christopher Columbus' as an expression. And as far as I know, you never show even an ounce of sympathy for anyone unless one of your bloody grand schemes falls apart and they're begging you for help once again. And besides, Lyssa's a warrior, being almost as experienced as Jack Harkness in dealing with these strange creatures."

"As if you're one to speak, Becky," Emma said. "Is there anything you care about besides owning as many good pairs of shoes as you can, or keeping Luke for yourself without him finding out about your spending vices? Let me remind you that I've been running a household since I was thirteen, and even managed to find a suitable husband for my governess. From what I've seen of you, Jughead the glutton, Holden the slacker, to use your own words, and Rabbit the adulterer, the next century must have really seen a decline in character and accomplishments, even with all this technology you have."

"Now girls, let's not get into a fight right now," Jughead said, placing his hands around Becky and Emma's arms. "Lyssa's been hurt, and our code of honor says that protecting the people must always be our top priority."

"Keep your greasy hands away from me!" Emma yelled, stepping away from him. "Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to inform Alice about our situation, doing my part in keeping the code of honor. For a child of only ten, she really does seem more capable of taking charge than anyone else in this room except for maybe Gandolf."

"I'll come with you, Emma," Jo Marsh said, picking up her sword and running off to join Emma, ignoring Rabbit as he winked at her and said, "Gotta act like you're approaching a war zone every day, right, kid?"

"You never know in a place like this," Tyrion said.

And once the two girls had left, Rabbit laughed, saying, "And I thought my wife Janice was such a pain in the ass. Seeing girls like Emma really do remind us of how far we've come along, don't you all agree?"

"As arrogant as Emma may be, Harry, I do admire her sense of duty when taking on her responsibilities," Gandolf said. "Those of us from less technologically advanced societies do seem to place greater value on this, I must say, as much as I do admire the values of courage and equality displayed by some of you who are from the modern world. But if we want to succeed as a league, we must learn to see past our differences, set aside any habits that hinder our mission, and gain an appreciation for all our strengths and personalities…"

Gandolf's speech was caught off by a shattering scream, followed by the tumbling of the ground and the sound of running feet outside. Several tables and shelves within the house started falling, and a crack started coming through the ceiling, with bread crumbs and candy pieces falling into the house.

"What's happening?" Jughead asked, trembling with fear.

"Someone go over to the window and find out what's going on!" Becky yelled.

Tyrion ran over to the nearest window, and Clara followed along. With just one peak through, the situation was clear. "By gods, the giant Jack Harkness and Lyssa were looking for has escaped and made his way into the Land of Fiction!" Tyrion said.

And to Clara's shock, there was the giant she'd seen before, stomping his way through the cottages and chasing after every villager who got in his way.

 _Oh, Lyssa. If only you could get up this instant,_ Clara thought.

 _It sure is a difficult situation, isn't it, Clara?_ She heard the Cloud saying.

* **Becky Bloomwood is from the Confessions of a Shopaholic series by Sophie Kinsella**

 **** Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom is from the Rabbit Angstrom series by John Updike**


End file.
